


Coming Out

by flutterby_cupcake_26



Series: Coming Out [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Big Bang Challenge, College, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2015, Flashbacks, High School, M/M, Secret Identity, Secret Relationship, Teacher Dean, Writer Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 11:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 53,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5289719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flutterby_cupcake_26/pseuds/flutterby_cupcake_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a typical love story. They met in college. It was love at first sight, or close enough, and it wasn't long until Dean and Castiel were married. It was pretty close to perfect.</p><p>Fast forward seven years: Dean teaches at a high school in his home town in Kansas and Castiel is better known as Jimmy Novak, internationally best-selling author. They spend months apart, and all their time hiding who they really are. But their way of life is threatening to unravel completely, and Dean needs to choose what is more important; his privacy or his husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [solwinchester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/solwinchester/gifts), [Cliophilyra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliophilyra/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I can't believe today's the day I finally put this up! I hope you all enjoy it, it's my first Supernatural AU/Destiel AU.
> 
> I want to say a big thank you to my friend Cliophilyra (no idea how to tag you hun!) who has not only beta-ed this story but been there while I've had far too many big ideas and kept me on track with the actual point of the story. It's been so much fun writing our DCBBs together and talking endlessly about plot points and grammar and characterisation and all the other things I enjoy nerding over.
> 
> And thank you doesn't seem big enough for SolWinchester, who has done all the incredible artwork for this story (despite her tablet breaking and having to work around some huge challenges). It's the first time doing DCBB for both of us, and it's been so good talking to each other about story ideas and the fandom in general. Her artwork is amazing and I got tears in my eyes for one picture (you'll have to guess which :P ) - Sol, I hope we stay in touch long after this challenge! Thank you for making artwork that match so closely to what I pictured in my head. You've got so much talent, and I'm so glad to have met you (and so glad you picked my story!) and I have loved talking Dean and Castiel with you.

_ _

 

_“And now we have the man who has broken all records in the literary world. His debut novel outsold the last record holder within a month of release and each book since has topped the charts for downloads and physical copies. His latest book due out next week is set to break all previous records. It’s my pleasure to have him on the show. Ladies and gentlemen, Jimmy Novak!”_

_The camera panned from the host, who was in a chair behind a desk, wearing a blazer over a pullover, to the man sitting on the sofa opposite. He was a dark-haired man in a tailored suit who smiled and waved briefly as the studio audience applauded and cheered. The host - Dick Roman - waited until the noise had died down to begin talking._

_“Jimmy! Welcome to the show!”_

_“Thanks, Dick. It’s good to be back.” Jimmy spoke gravely._

_“So, tell us about this new book! I heard it’s the closest you’ve gotten to being autobiographical?”_

_Jimmy finally cracked a smile._

_“You could say that elements from my life have lent themselves to the basic structure of the storyline, yes.”_

_“I’ve read an advanced copy, there’s something about a cult in here? You were a member of a cult?!”_

_Jimmy laughed this time, though his shoulders were hunched slightly, giving the impression that he was tense._

_“No, just raised in a very religious family. I suppose that’s the same, for all intents and purposes.”_

_“Is there a reference to your mysterious boyfriend in the books?”_

 

“You know, it’s a real shame that he’s homosexual. He’s such a catch, it’s a total waste.”

 

Dean’s focus on the interview was gone. He stared at the screen, trying to get back into the interview, but it was hard with the chattering behind him.

 

“Mmm, can you imagine waking up to those big blue eyes every morning?”

 

“I bet there isn’t a boyfriend. I bet it’s some kind of way of avoiding attention. I heard writers don’t like the limelight. Is that true, Dean?”

 

Dean cursed inwardly, and turned to the three teachers sitting at the table beside his. All their eyes were also glued to the screen, as Dick Roman encouraged Jimmy to participate in some game that was a regular feature on the show.

 

“That’s what they say,” he nodded.

 

“A lot of Dean’s college classmates are published authors now,” One woman nodded at the others, trying to seem impressive. Dean sighed, wishing that he hadn’t shared any information whatsoever with her.

 

“You’re exaggerating, Bela. If you count the self-published e-book authors and that one guy who churns out Brony fan fiction, there are six.”

 

“That’s a lot,” Bela pointed out. She turned back to the other teachers. “If I ever met Jimmy Novak, he’d be in trouble.”

 

Dean made sure to look away from the women before he rolled his eyes. He returned his attention to the television screen, where Jimmy and Dick were laughing together. Dean had enough time to note that Jimmy seemed markedly more relaxed before the women distracted him once more.

 

“Dean, you’re married, aren’t you?”

 

He gave a short nod, and gave up on watching the interview. He’d have to watch online later, when he wasn’t distracted by his colleagues.

 

“When do we finally get to meet your Cas, hmmm? You never made it to the end of summer cook out.”

 

“We had a last minute trip to the beach,” Dean lied smoothly. “Visiting my brother in California.”

 

The three women traded looks between themselves, and Dean regretted spending the lunch hour in the teacher’s lounge. But the office in the English department didn’t have a television, and he would have missed the Jimmy interview if he had driven home, even in his prized muscle car. The teachers’ lounge had been the most promising place to watch, at least in theory.

 

“Zachariah’s talking about doing a fundraiser soon, maybe we’ll meet Cas then?”

 

Dean resisted the urge to shrug, and tried to remember the date that Zachariah had mentioned in the hallway earlier, and Castiel’s crazy schedule.

 

“We’ll see,” he murmured, and looked at the screen again. Jimmy’s segment was over, and Dean struggled to hide his disappointment. He should have just eaten his sandwich in the English office.

 

*

 

Dean had finally watched the interview, after work. He had driven home and cooked himself some pasta. He ate alone at the table in his kitchen, with the laptop in front of him, and the interview stuck on repeat. Each time, he noted Jimmy’s initial awkward body language, and how it seemed to relax once the questions moved on from Jimmy’s family and boyfriend. Dean’s cell phone, which was beside his plate, began ringing halfway through his fourth viewing of the program. He paused the video, and tapped the phone, placing the call on loudspeaker.

 

“Hey, Cas.”

 

“Did you watch?”

 

“Yep. About four times now.”

 

“About four times? You can’t be more specific than that?”

 

“You want me to be specific?”

 

“Always.”

 

“Fine, I couldn’t watch it properly when it was on because I was stupid enough to try to watch it at school, and I’ve been playing it non-stop on YouTube while I cooked and ate. About four times, Cas.”

 

“What did you think?”

 

“I could tell you were tense.”

 

“Do you blame me? He asked if I’d been in a _cult_. It misses the entire point of the story! I spent nine months just developing the concept, and that’s his take away?”

 

Dean rubbed his forehead. Of course Castiel was going to be temperamental about people reading his work in ‘the right way’.

 

“He’s a heathen.’

 

“Read the advanced copy my ass. His researcher’s fed him that line. And I fucking hated the way he introduced me. Whatever happened to the art? When did literature become about breaking records and smashing sales?”

 

“It’s still a product you’re trying to sell, Cas-“

 

“Nuh-uh, no. You can’t sit there and tell me that it’s okay to be a sell out when you won’t write your ideas because you’re too scared.”

 

Clearly, Castiel was in a bad mood. Dean wished he was back home, instead of halfway across the country. Then he could calm his husband down through physical contact. Instead, they were miles apart, and Dean was going to have to pick his words carefully.

 

“I don’t write because I have enough on my plate with lesson plans, homework assignments, detention, staff meetings, school activities … there’s too much to do to write on top. If I did write, I’d have to cut something else out of my life. Like sleep, or my wonderful, sexy husband.”

 

“I would definitely cut school out of the equation. School!” Castiel spat the word, like it was a cuss word. “You’re wasting your potential. And trust me, I know your potential.”

 

Dean could picture Castiel leering at the phone, and his chest ached for the scruffy-haired, stubbled whirlwind of a man.

 

“When are you coming home?” He muttered softly. Castiel chuckled, a low laugh that still carried a hint of promise in its timbre.

 

“I still have about three weeks of interviews, and the actual launch, and a schools tour which feels so fucking ironic. And then there’s the convention circuit. My life is busy too.’

 

‘I never said it wasn’t, Cas.’

 

‘I still fit writing in.’

 

Dean was about to argue back when Castiel’s tone changed. “You could come to me. They keep giving me king size beds. Which is great and everything, but a single feels empty without you. I have too much bed.”

 

“I don’t know-“

 

“We’ll order room service. I’ll give the spare room key to Samandriel; he’ll give it to you. No one has to know you’re you, just please, please come fill my bed this weekend.”

 

Dean could picture it, could imagine driving up to New York or Chicago or wherever Castiel had ended up, finding Samandriel and retrieving the key card while Castiel was out being Jimmy Novak. Could almost see Castiel’s face in front of him, lighting up as he rushed across the room, pinning him to the bed, smothering him in kisses. He closed his eyes, knowing there was no chance of it.

 

“People know who Samandriel is. He has his own fan page on Facebook. I caught some freshmen talking about him in class before the summer. Samandriel gives some boring teacher a key card? They’ll know, Cas.”

 

Castiel sighed loudly down the line.

 

“I wish you didn’t cling to this secrecy thing so much. Everyone’s so much more liberal, these days.”

 

“Not here, they’re not. Some of the other teachers were saying it was such a shame you were gay when the interview was on.”

 

“Should’ve told them you were too. And that I am big. Huge. Hard to handle.”

 

“Like a total diva,” Dean deadpanned. “Seriously, Cas-“

 

“I don’t know why you live there, anyway. Why you insist that’s home. We should move, to San Fran to be near Sam and Gabe, or New York. New York makes sense; it’s where my publisher and my agent are. You could work in a prestigious school where the students give a rat’s ass who Shakespeare was. We could have a cute apartment, and our marriage would actually be fucking legal.”

 

“It is legal.”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

“Cas, I can’t just leave. These kids, they need me-“

 

“Bullshit. They won’t remember who you are a couple of years down the line. And I’m your husband, Dean.”

 

Dean had no more answers, and Castiel knew it. He buried his face in his hands, waiting for the next comment.

 

“What are you doing tonight?” Castiel’s voice was softer.

 

“I don’t know. Watching your interview again?”

 

“Don’t. The guy was an ass. Watch a movie.”

 

“Which one?”

 

“Wait a sec … go through to the TV.”

 

Dean stood up, the chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it back, and he walked through the house until he reached their living room. He settled in the love seat and picked up the remote, listening all the while as Castiel channel surfed.

 

“Okay, I found something. She’s The Man. Watch it with me.”

 

Dean found the movie, and took the phone off speaker, putting it to his ear and listening more to Castiel’s running commentary than the movie itself. He cast his eyes around their house, his parents’ old house, and tried to fight the lonely feeling that threatened to take hold of him. It was always hard when Castiel had to go away. He just had to get through the next month, six weeks tops, and then they’d see each other again.


	2. Chapter 2

“Dean, is that okay?”

 

Dean sat up straight in his chair, looking at Zachariah with what he hoped was an innocent smile. He hadn’t been listening to the staff meeting, and he knew he was in shaky territory.

 

“Um, sure?”

 

“Great! So refreshments are covered! Now, can anyone think of any way we could spice up this fundraiser? We need a new roof for the science block!”

 

Dean fixed the smile on his face. Crap. He should have known if he hadn’t been paying attention, he would get roped into participating in the fundraiser idea that Zachariah was running with. Castiel had been talking about blowing the whole thing off, and going somewhere away from the public eye, just being together. And now because of a moment of inattention, it looked as though those half-formed plans were up in smoke. It was Castiel’s fault to begin with, he’d been trying to have phone sex for the past two nights and Dean kept reliving the calls at the worst possible moments. If Cas had been trying to lodge himself firmly in Dean’s mind then it was definitely mission accomplished.

 

“Dean knows some authors,” Pamela unhelpfully pointed out. Dean fought the urge to groan. Why did Bela have to tell Pamela and Lisa about the few details of his life that she had managed to gleam?

 

“Do you?” Zachariah fell on this information with enthusiasm. “Anyone we might have heard of, hmmm?”

 

Dean felt trapped. Anyone else would have boasted about Jimmy Novak, and Dean was dying to see him again. But to see him as Jimmy Novak, old college friend instead of Castiel Winchester, sexy-as-fuck husband? It would be torture. Then again, who else was there? Ash, who wrote Brony fanfic? Frank, who specialized in conspiracy theories? He at least had a following. There was also Carver Edlund, but Dean couldn’t remember the last time Chuck picked up the phone or left the house. Chuck had been the one to suggest to Castiel to write with a pen name.

 

The others would be difficult too, Castiel had fallen out with a lot of their college crowd just before graduation, and there was no question who Dean had sided with, even at the time.

 

He could feel the eyes of the rest of the faculty boring into him, and he gave it up. Maybe Cas would be too busy, or maybe he could lie and say he asked but it was no go.

 

“Um, Frank Devereaux, Carver Edlund, and Jimmy Novak.”

 

There was silence in the room for a moment, and then someone began to laugh. Dean saw Alistair sneering at him.

 

“You know Jimmy Novak?”

 

“We were in the same class at college. Graduated together.”

 

“Well, if that’s true, and you can call in a favor, Dean, that would be wonderful. An appearance from Jimmy Novak would really boost those funds!”

 

Dean hated Zachariah’s enthusiasm, the way he punched the air in delight, as though it was a certainty that Jimmy was coming when Dean hadn’t even asked yet. Principal Zachariah Angel was an _ass_.

 

The meeting broke up a few minutes later, Zachariah walking away with a bounce to his step. Most of the other teachers followed him at a slower pace, and Dean rubbed his face with his hands.

 

“So, Dean,” Bela’s voice was in his ear, and he realized too late that he should have left the room as soon as possible. “Jimmy Novak? Could you give him my number?”

 

Dean fantasized, for a brief moment, of turning around and telling the truth. _No, you can’t have my husband’s number._ But he didn’t want to complicate things even more.

 

“Jimmy’s spoken for. And he’s gay, remember?”

 

He was shaking, actually shaking. Why was he shaking? Was it just talking about Castiel, in any capacity? He wanted this conversation to be over, to be in his car with the music pounding, until he could get home, grade some papers, and call Cas.

 

“So that’s actually true? Do you know the boyfriend?”

 

Dean forced himself to remain polite when he spoke to Bela. She had no idea of the buttons she was pushing, after all.

 

“Non-disclosure agreement. Sorry.”

 

“You’re kidding! What about Cas? Does she know?”

 

Dean gave a short nod, then checked his watch and feigned panic.

 

“Crap, talking of Cas, I promised to give a ride for the dentist. I’m running late. See you, Bela!”

 

He gathered his bags and jacket, and did his best to move quickly out of the room. He rushed through the hallways, and out into the lot, not stopping until he’d thrown all his work into the trunk and climbed into the driver’s seat. He peeled out of the lot, and drove.

 

Driving the Impala always calmed him down, and he found himself cruising around the town instead of going straight home, letting the bass line of the Led Zeppelin album he was favoring work its way through him, letting the words sink in, as though they held a solution.

 

Maybe it would be okay. Maybe Cas would say yes to the appearance, and he’d go and be vivacious and personable like Jimmy could be, and Dean could sling cupcakes and brownies throughout. And then they’d meet back home, or on the way, and have some much needed time to themselves. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

 

*

 

“You’re out of your tree,’ Gabe’s voice was light-hearted as it came out of the computer.

 

“Gabe, hun, a little tact?” Sam sighed, his voice slightly louder than Gabriel’s. Which made sense, because he was sitting just in front of their webcam, tilting his body back so Gabriel could be included. Dean was sitting at the kitchen table again, resting his chin on clasped hands as he looked at his laptop.

 

“So, that’s a hell no, Cas won’t go for it?”

 

“Dean, come on. He expects it from everyone else, he doesn’t expect it from you.” Sam continued trying to sound patient. Dean watched as Gabriel swiveled in his chair, swiping a cookie from the desk beside him.

 

“I was in a corner, Sam. Bela sold me out.”

 

“I thought you didn’t talk to the other teachers?” Sam looked as befuddled as he sounded.

 

“Bela has a knack,” Dean shrugged. “I’m really screwed, aren’t I?”

 

“No. Because my little brother isn’t going to give it a thought. He’ll try and convince you to go to Cuba for the weekend instead.” Gabriel said before shoving the cookie into his mouth, whole.

 

Dean considered it. It had been years since he and Castiel had been anywhere near a pool, or a beach.

 

“Castiel wouldn’t settle for a weekend,’ Sam countered, reaching across Gabriel and snatching a cookie up himself.

 

“Baby, you’re so smart,” Gabe grinned, stroking Sam’s shoulder. Dean looked away, not because he had a problem with Sam and Gabriel’s relationship, but because it was hard to see them so effortlessly happy. Especially when he was aching for Castiel to come home.

 

“We had been talking about some time alone together.”

 

“Boy, you’re screwed worse than Sam will be tonight!” Gabe laughed. Dean groaned.

 

“No screwing my little brother.”

 

“Little nothing,” Gabe smirked, and Dean rubbed his forehead.

 

“That better be some reference about his height.”

 

“It is,” Sam reassured him, and Dean looked up in time to see Sam nudge Gabriel with his elbow and send a warning glance. “Look, Dean, maybe you should lie to Zac? Tell him you asked Samandriel, and they were all booked up?”

 

“Nope, he has to say he spoke to Jimmy.” Gabe shook his head. “And Samandriel was an ass about the schedule.”

 

“Why does he have to speak to Jimmy?”

 

“To prove he knows him.”

 

“I think if it’s a case of proving he knows Jimmy, Cas has to agree to go.”

 

Dean watched as they argued between themselves, no longer looking at the computer screen.

 

“Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way,” Sam half-turned back to the computer, but his attention was still on Gabriel. “Maybe it’ll be different because Dean is asking. So he’ll hate it and he’ll bitch about it, but he’ll do it because he’s going to be away for a while longer. And it’s not like he has to do much, right?”

 

“Right,” Dean felt relieved to be included again. “Zachariah just said an appearance. So I guess coming to the thing, talking to some fans, getting the crowds coming. And since I know him and all, I’ll be the one showing him around.”

 

“It might work,” Sam carried on looking at Gabriel, and Dean noticed his cell phone lighting up. He checked the caller ID.

 

“Guys, I’ll talk to you later, Cas is calling.”

 

Sam half-waved at the screen before Dean cut the connection, finally picking up Castiel’s call.

 

“Hey, what took you so long?” Castiel greeted him.

 

“I was talking with Sam and Gabe on Skype.”

 

“Oh. How are they?”

 

“Same as ever. How’re you?”

 

“Exhausted. Six interviews, two radio and four print. All asking the same dumb questions. My head is numb from disbelief.”

 

Dean smiled. Despite the complaints, Castiel’s tone was lighter than the last few phone calls.

 

“Is that it for tonight?”

 

“Yes. Thank God. I was thinking of maybe drafting a new idea tonight, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I heard your voice.”

 

Dean smiled, looking to his laptop and clicking on the browser, which instantly loaded to the website the students had to submit their work to. Dean liked to check the results of their answers regularly, to work out patterns.

 

“What are you doing right now?” Castiel purred.

 

“Checking students grades.”

 

“Isn’t that a breach of trust or something?”

 

“It’s how they do it these days, Cas. I get essays emailed and they do worksheets from a website.”

 

“This is why the current writing world sucks,” Castiel sounded a little more obstinate. “The actual act of writing is dying out. No one thinks for themselves. Which is probably why all six interviews pressed me for details of my sex life and only one of them considered what I was trying to do with the antagonist.”

 

“I’ll make sure to ask for a handwritten essay in time for you coming home. And then you can tell me what the hell Garth Fitzgerald is ever trying to say through his scrawl.”

 

Castiel laughed down the phone, but it died out quickly.

 

“I wish you were here.” Castiel’s voice was low.

 

“I wish you were here,” Dean shot back. “I miss you.”

 

Castiel was silent down the phone. Dean took the risk.

 

“You know, there’s a way we could see each other sooner …”

 

“Don’t fuck with me.”

 

“I’m not,” Dean smiled weakly, and then launched into the whole explanation, about his wandering thoughts and Zachariah’s enthusiasm and how he had accidentally been trapped. When he finished, he could hear Castiel’s breath down the line. “Cas?”

 

“I’ll think about it.” Castiel said shortly, and cut off the call. Dean laid his phone on the table, unsure whether it was a good sign or not. At least he wasn’t yelling, even if he wasn’t giving an answer right away. But Dean knew he couldn’t worry about it, and besides, he had almost seventy worksheet assignments to plough through.

 

*

 

Castiel lay on the king size in his latest suite, phone pressed to his forehead. The room was dim where the sun was setting, and the light in the room remained off.

 

His head was jumbled, full of contradictory thoughts. He was beginning to regret biting his tongue with Dean, already missing his voice. But he was so incensed by the things that Dean was talking about; he knew that if he stayed on the line it would have developed into an argument. And the last thing he wanted was to argue with Dean, to have to wait for make up sex. He was already waiting impatiently for missed-you sex.

 

He tried to get his thoughts in some kind of order, but it was useless without a pen and paper to hand. He reluctantly sat up and switched on a lamp, then pulled his current notepad onto his lap and slid the pen from the binding. He started scribbling every angry thought he’d had as Dean had blustered through his crappy story, letting his frustration come out in the sloppiness of his handwriting, of the pen digging into the paper harder than he normally would.

 

He hated Dean’s school. Loathed it. They were always pulling this shit with Dean, talking him into situations that he didn’t want to be in. Castiel was aware that too often, he tried to get Dean out of his comfort zone also, but Dean at least stood up to him and said no. It was like he was powerless at this place and Castiel hated seeing the way his husband kowtowed to it. He hated the gossiping teachers who always compromised Dean’s comfort just for the latest scoop, not just because it was one of them who opened their giant maw of a mouth. They frequently asked Dean probing questions that he would then complain about hours later, down the phone line and too far away to be comforted.

 

Mostly, he was just frustrated about the entire situation. It was not his choice to keep Dean so secret. It wasn’t his idea that he should be so mysterious about his boyfriend - though it did wonders for the press interest, which in turn raised his sales - and it hadn’t been his idea to keep his own name behind locked doors for so long. It was not up to him to have such long periods away from the man he was committed to.

 

And whether he wanted to admit it or not, Dean was grieving. He had been for a long time, and Castiel was unsure about how to proceed with his husband’s pain. It was why he put up with so much, why they still considered Kansas their home despite Castiel having no love for the place. Dean wasn’t ready to leave his parents, not yet, not even years after they had gone. Castiel had tried to hint about counselling, leaving fliers around the house when he was home writing. He’d forced himself through countless television shows trying to show Dean that there was a way through it. His last two books had been laden with not-so-subtle hints about how Castiel felt about the whole situation, which luckily, no one interviewing him had picked up on.

 

He finished the list, and tossed it onto the side table, rubbing his face with his hands as the door opened and closed, and Samandriel spoke softly.

 

“Cas? You have a slot on breakfast television tomorrow. We have to be up for four-thirty. The car will be out front at five. Better get some shut eye now.”

 

Castiel looked up, and nodded at his youngest brother, crawling under the covers though he was still fully dressed.

 

“Goodnight, Castiel.”

 

“Goodnight, Samandriel.”

 

Samandriel left the room again, going into the next room in the suite, and Castiel rolled over, worrying about Samandriel too. He couldn’t help that one. He and Gabriel had managed to rescue Samandriel from their old family, the old way of life, a little over a year previously. He still wasn’t used to the realities of a world outside of their father’s reach, still seemed to miss the way they were raised. Even if he was the one to reach out to Castiel, asking for help. Castiel hated seeing his youngest brother so timid, simultaneously afraid of the world they’d left behind and his impulse to return home. Working for Castiel kept him occupied, and allowed Castiel to keep an eye on him. At least Castiel could watch out for one person he cared about. He didn’t close his eyes until he heard Samandriel’s soft snores through the connecting door.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean stood at the front of his class, leaning against the desk. He was listening to two of the students who were reading a scene from the book they were studying, trying not to laugh along when Jo Harvelle over acted the part of the heroine, or when Garth Fitzgerald looked completely out of his depth, nearly dropping his copy of the book and losing his place.

 

He wished that Castiel could see this part of his life, the kids that he taught. They were already practically adults, and their personalities were so vibrant. Dean envied them in a way. The way they were still so carefree, to the point that Jo could collapse dramatically against a desk and stay in the moment with the story, and they could just laugh along with her tomfoolery.

 

All except Charlie Bradbury, who sat in her chair, hunched over and watching the antics in the class through her long red hair. She had given one small smile, when Garth had tried to match Jo and stood on his chair to make a declaration, only to slip and teeter. Through sheer luck he managed not to fall over.

 

Dean knew better than to bring his concerns about Charlie up in the middle of class. The best he could do was to make sure not to call on her to read any of the passages out loud, or ask her a direct question. He knew from her assignments that she was the smartest kid in her grade - smarter even than Kevin Tran, who everyone said would be valedictorian the moment he arrived freshman year - and yet she never wanted to make a sound in class.

 

The bell sounded, signaling the end of the period, and Jo took the time to take a bow, demanding applause from the rest of the class before they gathered their possessions, and Dean had to call over their heads as they made to leave the room.

 

“Don’t forget to read up to page one-seventy-five! Do the worksheet online tonight. I’ll know who’s done it!” Charlie was about to slink by him, and he bent to her ear level. “Pop quiz tomorrow, okay?”

 

She nodded, and scurried away. She didn’t need the help to prepare to study, but Dean hoped the advanced warning would make her feel better. He stopped Benny Lafitte before he could escape out of the door. Unlike Charlie, Benny did need the advance warning. Already, he was struggling with the material.

 

“Benny, pop quiz tomorrow. Study hard, okay? And don’t tell the others, I’m looking forward to watching Jo’s face when she hears the news.”

 

Benny smirked, and left the room, meeting up with his friends just outside the door and catcalling as they headed to their next class. Dean smiled, and headed to the English office, feeling grateful when he found it empty. He sat at a desk, and checked his cell phone. Castiel had texted. Several times. And each text was demanding that Dean send him nudey photos.

 

He had reluctantly agreed to come to the school, and Dean knew it was purely because of him that Castiel would consider it. The text messages were Castiel’s way of saying that he wasn’t mad about the situation, at least not where Dean was concerned. Dean quickly drafted a reply, informing Castiel that he couldn’t send pornographic images when he was molding young minds. That’s how you got arrested and a criminal record. And lost your teaching job. Castiel promptly phoned back.

 

“You’re also not allowed to text in class. Your teacher might spot you smiling at your crotch and send you to detention.”

 

“I just finished a class.”

 

“Then I need a dick pic.”

 

“No one likes a-“ Dean cut off abruptly, as Lisa walked into the room, sitting at another desk and sorting through her lesson plans, smiling briefly at Dean as she realized he was on the phone. “I can’t.”

 

Castiel sighed down the line.

 

“Someone walk in?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Damn. I was going to read you a little story to inspire the dick pic. It’s one I call ‘Cas really, really needs to bang Dean.’ You may have heard it before, I know, but it’s a favorite of mine.”

 

Dean hoped he wasn’t blushing.

 

“Tell me later,” he rubbed a finger on the varnished wood of the desk, not wanting to end the phone call, but not wanting Lisa to hear the things that Castiel was saying either.

 

“I don’t know if I can talk later. I have meetings all day for the launch, and then I have that late night live show. You’re going to watch, right?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Send me a dick pic before the show, at least. That’s not a request.”

 

Dean bit back a smile. “Yeah, later.”

 

“Right, yeah, not in school. Because kids, right?” Castiel sighed. “Samandriel’s coming back, I’d better go. Love you.”

 

“You too. Bye.” Dean hung up, wishing he could have been more detailed in his answer. He wanted to know whether Samandriel was okay, whether Castiel had chanced the conversation because Samandriel had stepped away, worried that Samandriel would want to go home if he heard conversations about Castiel’s anatomy. He wanted to say that he loved Castiel just as much, instead of making do with ‘you too’. He pressed the sleep mode button on the phone, and slid it back into his pocket, as Lisa started talking to him.

 

“Who was that?” She smiled. Dean looked up cautiously, unsure how much he should reveal. Could she hear a male voice? “You sounded like you didn’t want to be talking to them. It wasn’t one of those insurance scams, was it?”

 

“No,” he pulled out the pop quiz questions for the next day, determined to proofread them in case there were any mistakes. He did not want Kevin’s mother coming into the school again, telling him that he must have phrased a question incorrectly because there was no way her son had only gotten a ninety-seven.

 

“One day Dean, I’m going to crack you right open, you know that? I bet you talk with Cas.”

 

“Of course I do. We’re married.”

 

“So, is Cas coming to Zachariah’s school fundraiser? And I can’t believe you got Jimmy Novak to agree to come.”

 

Dean forced himself to remain neutral, and not balk at the way Lisa leaned on one hand, staring dreamily across the room.

 

“No. Cas has a really hectic schedule.”

 

“So does Jimmy. Mmmm, Jimmy. He’s delicious.”

 

Dean didn’t bother to engage with the route the conversation was taking. He forced himself to concentrate on perfecting the quiz and silencing Mrs Tran.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean arrived early at Zachariah’s fundraiser, feeling nervous about what was going to happen. Why had he agreed to ask Castiel to come again? It was the first time they were going to see each other in weeks, and he had to keep his hands to himself. He had to keep his focus, and make sure to call Castiel “Jimmy” at all times. He’d never done it before, seen Castiel in public. It was easier to call him Cas to his face, but refer to him as Jimmy with everyone else.

 

As soon as he showed up, Zachariah got him working, putting out plates of cookies and brownies and making sure they had all the flavored water they had ordered, keeping the student volunteers from fooling around. In a way, Dean was grateful that he has something to focus on, so that he couldn’t make himself overly anxious about the prospect of seeing Castiel.

 

Jimmy. He was seeing Jimmy today. Why was that so hard for him to keep straight in his head? He double-checked the cases of water again, as Ben and Claire, the two student volunteers, crowded around a plate of cookies, giggling and whispering in a way that set off Dean’s teacher sense.

 

“I’ll know if you’ve eaten any of those cookies,” he warned.

 

“Oh, come on Mr Winchester!” Ben complained loudly. “My mom wouldn’t let me eat any at home either.”

 

Dean looked across the football field the fundraiser was set up in, where Ben’s mom was chatting with Bela. As ever. Didn’t they gossip enough in the teacher’s lounge? He looked back at Ben.

 

“You know I can’t let you eat it, Ben. Unless you have the money?”

 

Ben scowled, and Dean went back to counting cases. He checked his watch when he was happy with everything, just as Pamela came over, looking worried.

 

“Dean, Zachariah wants to speak to you. There’s a problem with Jimmy Novak.”

 

She bit her lip, and Dean tried not to overreact. He took a deep breath in, let it out slowly, and then nodded.

 

“Okay. Can you stay here and make sure they don’t eat anything?” he nodded at Ben and Claire, and then jogged away before Pamela could respond, looking around all the stands for where Jimmy could be. He spotted him near the parking lot, Samandriel his ever present shadow. Zachariah was nearby, slowly turning red. Dean swallowed hard, and walked over, his guard firmly up. Castiel watched him approach, consternation all over his face.

 

“Hey,” he said cautiously, looking between the three of them. Samandriel wouldn’t even look at him, Casti-Jimmy looked like he was about to throw a fit, and Zachariah was so red that Dean was worried he might be about to have a heart attack. “What’s going on?”

 

Jimmy started talking, his anger making his words run in to each other. “When you asked me to come to this crap hole of a school, you were pretty confident that I was just making an appearance, yes?”

 

Dean nodded, knowing it was best not to comment on Castiel’s opinion of his school. Zachariah was almost turning purple, and started to protest, but Jimmy was in full flow.

 

“So as far as I was concerned, as far as I knew it, I was just showing up, right? That is right, isn’t it, Dean?”

 

Dean’s mouth was running dry. What had Zachariah said, exactly?

 

“Because the Principal here,” Castiel sneered as he said _Principal_. “Seems under the impression that this is working like a book signing. With photographs. I didn’t agree to anything like it, I wouldn’t have. There’s no contract for it, is there Samandriel?”

 

“None. Our schools tour was finalized seven months ago, when the Publishers confirmed a release date. We only have one date in this state, in approximately nine days. Schools tours include a Q and A session, a reading from your latest novel, with a possibility for signed books afterwards.”

 

Dean knew this, from Castiel’s late night phone calls where he would talk about the questions he was asked and what he managed to shoehorn into the reading to make it interesting for himself.

 

“That’s what I thought, thank you Samandriel. So, why am I badly misunderstanding what I am expected to do, Dean?”

 

Dean’s heart dropped into his stomach. This was what Sam and Gabriel had warned against, why they had given the advice to not even bother asking. Castiel didn’t honestly believe Dean was trying to set him up, did he?

 

“I don’t know,” his voice caught in his dry throat. “I thought the same as you.”

 

Castiel turned his attention to Zachariah, who definitely looked close to a heart attack.

 

“We agreed on an appearance! People are expecting you-”

 

“He told me to ‘run along to my booth’, Dean. Can you believe that?”

 

“Give us a minute,” Dean grunted at Zachariah, and nodded further into the parking lot, knowing Samandriel would probably follow them and watch their entire argument. When he was sure they wouldn’t be overheard, he turned, and saw the black look on Castiel’s face.

 

“There is no way you can convince me to do this, Dean. No way.”

 

“I am so sorry,” Dean rested against a nearby car. “If I knew he was thinking of making you work, I wouldn’t have agreed to it.”

 

“You know, we had to fly out here especially for this? Especially for you.”

 

“I know.” Dean felt like he was being told off. “I don’t know what to do now, Ca- Jimmy,” Castiel rolled his eyes. “I will completely understand if you walk away.”

 

Castiel narrowed his eyes and bent closer, so that only Dean would be able to hear his next words. “You’re meant to be my husband, Dean. So why aren’t you offering to walk away with me? I came along just to see you, just to spend time with you, and you know that.”

 

Dean hesitated, and that was enough for Castiel.

 

“I knew it. I should’ve always known. You’re always going to put this school first, even though they treat you like shit. Even though you’d be replaced if you left, because to them you’re expendable. You’re not expendable to me.”

 

“I wasn’t thinking of the school,” Dean tried to defend himself. “I was thinking of your fans in this town who are looking forward to meeting you. I can understand you leaving, but they won’t-”

 

Castiel interrupted him before he could carry on talking.

 

“Do not play that card. You think I don’t give a rat’s ass about my fans? I do, Dean. But today was one of my free days, and I don’t get many of them right now, and I was excited about spending the day with you.”

 

“I was looking forward to that too. To showing you the good points about this school, so you can see where I am when I’m not with you. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

 

“So what the hell happens now?” Castiel ground out. “Do we both ditch out? No, because people would talk, right? And you can’t have people knowing that you’re with me. So I ditch out and look like an asshole, and leave you to deal with your Principal? No, because I wouldn’t pull this shit with you. I’ve got no other options, have I? I’m going to have to do it. But I’m not happy about this, Dean. I’m not happy at all. You’d better think about some way of making it up to me.” Castiel stalked off before Dean could respond. Samandriel began to follow him, and Dean tried to appeal to his brother-in-law.

 

“Samandriel?”

 

“Don’t make it worse for yourself.” Samandriel muttered over his shoulder. Dean caught his forearm and made him turn around, whispering the words as quickly as he could.

 

“Please, just look after him, keep him happy-”

 

“What do you take me for, Dean? What do you take both of us for?” Samandriel wrenched his arm out of Dean’s grip, and gave him a disappointed glance before he followed Castiel back to Zachariah, where they were obviously going to negotiate some kind of a deal. Dean hoped it went in Castiel’s favor, for his own sake.

 

*

 

Castiel was bored. He’d been sitting on the same seat for over an hour, scribbling his name and muttering ‘thank you’ to all the people who had queued up at the autograph booth. Zachariah had begrudgingly agreed to almost all of his terms, although he had refused to take Dean off the refreshments. On reflection, Castiel considered as he signed the six-hundredth-and-thirty-fourth book, it was probably a good thing. Even though he missed his husband, and even though he was worried about how tired and withdrawn Dean seemed, he was angry about this farce.

 

He tried not to let it show to the school kids who had waited patiently for him to scribble in their books, but he knew it was obvious anyway, in the way he lacked his usual charisma. Samandriel was beside him, taking the books and passing them to Castiel. He was also - under Castiel’s instructions - taking the money. He had demanded half of the advertised amount from Zachariah, but he didn’t trust Dean’s smarmy Principal, and he knew that Samandriel’s upbringing meant that he didn’t have a deceitful bone in his body.

 

They fell into their familiar routine quickly, hitting their zone in a way that Castiel could tell the locals hadn’t been expecting. Every signature came with an internal debate about what to do regarding Dean, how to go from the point they were at to salvage something of the day. At least, he was debating that until he heard a fake whisper, from somewhere down the queue.

 

“What does a lesbian want with a guy’s autograph?”

 

The sneer made Castiel look up from the book he was about to sign, ruining the flow he and Samandriel had created. Luckily, Samandriel knew to wait as Castiel met the gaze of the scrawny, red-haired girl standing in front of him. Her eyes darted about nervously.

 

“Uh, hi.” She forced a smile, though her body language screamed that she just wanted to run away. Castiel looked back at her seriously.

 

“Were they talking about you?”

 

The girl cringed, like the last thing she wanted to do would be to stand there and discuss a heckle with him.

 

“Because,” Castiel carried on as though she had responded. “It’s kind of a stupid notion. Do people in this hick town forget I have a boyfriend?”

 

He hated having to refer to Dean as a boyfriend. He was so much more than that. But the girl in front of him had stopped, her body language tensed now, like she was still debating the idea of running, but wanted to hear what the famous Jimmy Novak had to say. The few people who had chuckled at the comment had turned silent now.

 

“What’s your name?” He asked her. She cringed, as the guy next to her answered.

 

“She’s called Charlie.”

 

“Well, Charlie,” Castiel smiled warmly at her. “There’s nothing wrong - absolutely nothing wrong - if you are a lesbian, okay? One day, when you’ve left this backwater town behind, you’re going to find a girl who really loves you. And you’ll probably have an amazing job, while they’re all still at the seven-eleven, trying to work as many double shifts as possible to cover rent. Get out when you can, okay?”

 

Charlie’s eyes were wide as she nodded, and she scooped her book back up once Castiel had written in it. He barely heard her mutter a “thanks” before she ran off, swallowed up behind a crowd of people strolling along, and Castiel bent his head back to the conveyer belt style system that Samandriel picked up again without a hitch. The autograph line was still long, and Castiel knew he still had a lot of work to do, but he felt a little better, hoping that somehow he’d made an impact for the timid girl.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean didn’t see Castiel again at the school. Every time he dared to crane his neck to see what was going on at the booth, he could only make out a huge line snaking halfway up the football field. He knew he’d screwed up, but he didn’t have the chance to dwell on the problem he’d created. He was run off his feet with the baked goods, flavoured water, and the last minute coffee machine that Zachariah had presented with a disgruntled air.

 

When the fundraiser finally ended, all Dean wanted to do was to escape and find Castiel to take him home. Unfortunately, Zachariah cornered him before he even left the refreshments table to let him know that Jimmy had already left, and had his assistant skim the cash. He had ranted about embezzlement and celebrities with ego problems, and Dean knew he had to help clean up before he could find out what had become of his husband to appease the Principal slightly.

 

He wasn’t surprised that Samandriel had removed some of the money they had earned. He knew that Zachariah was already charging less than Castiel normally commanded for an autograph session, and Castiel would have been fair to his fans and the fundraiser. He also wouldn’t trust a man who’d lied about his intentions to pay him properly. Samandriel, on the other hand, would have taken out, to the penny, everything they were entitled to. It was a remnant of the fear he’d grown up with, to be honest and act with a conscience, or get a beating. And though Samandriel knew that neither Castiel nor Dean would hurt him, he still acted with conscience.

 

Dean had picked up trash and closed up booths until night was beginning to fall, and his whole body was beginning to ache. All he wanted was to get home and snuggle up close to Castiel’s warm body. He didn’t sleep properly without his husband, and the prospect of Castiel being home was enough for Dean to work at a steady pace, even through his tired muscles.

 

He drove home, and walked into the house. It was too quiet, too still. Castiel and Samandriel hadn’t gone back home. He walked through the building to be sure, looking in all the rooms, even sticking his head into Samandriel’s still-bare room, but it was obvious that they hadn’t even entered the house on this visit. Dean had no idea when they were jetting off again, and he felt an unfamiliar desperation when he realized that he might not see Castiel for another few weeks. He hated the idea, when they were leaving on such a sour note. He didn’t bother with dinner, but shucked off his clothes, placing them in the laundry basket, and climbed into bed.

 

He lay there for countless hours, in the dark, under the covers, watching the moon from outside the window, wondering if their marriage was - if not over - on the rocks. He didn’t want that. Like he hadn’t wanted to let Castiel down so thoroughly. He should have done things differently, should have stood up to Zachariah, should have put his foot down that Jimmy wasn’t there to work, he was there to have fun too. He was a horrible husband.

 

Eventually, he heard the front door creak open, and the soft footfalls of people entering the house. He listened hard, and heard a few whispers, before a door down the hall opened and closed, the wood razzing against the fibers of the carpet. A moment later, his own bedroom door opened. He could sense Castiel in the room. More accurately, in the doorway, taking his time to come in. Dean wondered if he was debating sleeping on the sofa. The door closed, and he heard Castiel shuffling around the room, before he too climbed into their bed. They lay so tantalizingly close to one another, without a word uttered between them, and Dean could feel the impulse to roll over, to just touch him. There was nothing wrong with touching his husband, even if they had a disagreement. He rolled over, and grazed Castiel’s arm. Castiel’s reaction was to roll further along the bed, turning his back to Dean.

 

“Cas?”

 

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

 

So Castiel was definitely mad at him.

 

“Cas, I’m sorry.”

 

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

 

This, at least, gave Dean hope. Castiel would still be there in the morning. He cuddled up against Castiel’s back, wrapping an arm around him until he was clasping Castiel’s collarbone, and he took it as a good sign that he wasn’t shaken off.

 

“I’m going to make it up to you somehow, Cas. I don’t know when you have to go back, but tomorrow it’s just about you and me, right? And if you’re staying longer, I’ll call in sick, we can go away somewhere.” He kissed Castiel’s ear, just on the cuff at the top. Castiel didn’t move or speak. “Baby, I will make it up to you. I love you.”

 

Castiel still didn’t respond, and Dean cuddled closer anyway, nuzzling his head into the crook of Castiel’s neck and kissing his skin gently. The silence stretched between them, and Dean concentrated on Castiel’s steady breathing, and felt himself succumbing to sleep. He didn’t miss the whisper in the dark.

 

“Goodnight, Dean.”

 

 

*

 

Dean woke the next morning alone in the bed. The previous day flashed through his mind and he groaned as he remembered how awful it had been.

 

“I take it you’re awake, then?”

 

He looked around, and saw Castiel, sitting on the bed, fitting in around the curve of his legs. He didn’t look like he had slept at all, Dean noted as he accepted the cup of coffee that Castiel proffered. He took a sip and suppressed a groan. Castiel always brought some amazing imported stuff with him.

 

“So, let’s talk.” Castiel began, and barely allowed Dean the chance to raise his head before ploughing on. “I am trying my best to be patient, Dean. I am trying to cope with being away from you, and not being allowed to talk about you. I’m dealing with the fact that despite everything, you want to stay around here and work in that place. I know you’re still grieving John and Mary, and I’m not going to make you stop, but I wish you’d move on, just a little. I have so much on, Dean, not just with my work, but with worrying about Samandriel and missing you. Worrying about you comes naturally, but right now, I’m struggling.”

 

Dean looked down into his mug. He knew that Castiel had a point. Even though his parents had died a few years previously, it had been hard for him to deal with, and he had avoided most of Castiel’s discussions about moving away until very recently.

 

“I’m holding you to those promises from last night, by the way. You know, spending the whole day together, calling in sick? Samandriel and I fly out again Tuesday night. We’ve got three whole days together. Samandriel’s gone to the store already to stock up on some snacks and then he has about four shows he wants to watch back-to-back on Netflix.”

 

Dean looked up from the coffee. “So what do you want to do?”

 

Castiel crawled up the bed, a possessive glint in his eyes. Dean hastily placed the mug on his side table, and let Castiel bear down on him, anticipating a kiss at the very least. But Castiel dropped a brochure on his chest instead, and then grabbed a mug from his own side table, sipping it and leaving it to Dean to work out what it was he was hinting at. Dean sat back up and looked at the cover. It was for rental properties in San Francisco.

 

“Before you shoot the messenger, Sam gave it to me when Samandriel and I were over that way. He’s worried about you too. Personally, I’m still rooting for New York.”

 

Dean sat up, flicking through the brochure as he absent-mindedly reached again for the coffee cup.

 

“This is progress,” Castiel noted. Dean shrugged.

 

“They’re gorgeous buildings,” he allowed. “I just don’t know, Cas. San Francisco doesn’t feel right. It’s okay visiting Sam and Gabe, but I don’t want to stay there.”

 

Castiel accepted this, and Dean knew it was only because he had taken the time to look at the possibilities.

 

“So, if I brought a brochure for New York?”

 

Dean lifted his gaze to his husband, getting stuck in those brilliant blue eyes. Even after all this time, he could still be under their spell so easily.

 

“You’re telling me that realistically, you could bring home one sampling from New York?”

 

Castiel shrugged easily.

 

“Maybe just a list of websites then.”

 

Dean raised his cup to his lips while he tried to think of how to respond to that. They could hear through the house when the front door opened and closed, and the soft padding of Samandriel running up the stairs. He knocked on their door a few moments later.

 

“Can I come in?” He called through the door.

 

“Yeah, nothing to see in here,” Castiel called back. Samandriel walked into the room, and stood by the foot of their bed. He considered Dean for a moment, before addressing Castiel.

 

“Have we forgiven him yet?”

 

“We’re working on it. He’s calling in sick the next few days.”

 

“He’s looking at Sam’s thing too.”

 

“Mmm-hmmm. Progress.”

 

“You tried him on the cat poo coffee yet?”

 

Dean looked down at his mug, suddenly suspicious. Castiel started laughing.

 

“Babe, I didn’t. Although I was tempted, just to say I’d tried it. Samandriel’s just messing with you.”

 

Dean wasn’t used to his young brother-in-law showing a sense of humor. He supposed he wasn’t the only one checking Castiel’s ‘progress’ box.

 

“There was something else I wanted to discuss,” Samandriel said somberly, still addressing Castiel. “I know I said I’d be watching TV all day to give you some private time, but when I was at the store I bumped into some local kids. I think they knew I was your brother, but they were okay despite that. They invited me to a party tonight.”

 

Dean looked at Castiel again, trying to have a silent conversation with him. It was a loaded situation. Samandriel was still seventeen. And even though he had been homeschooled all his life, kept studying at the family home so that he graduated early, they knew he was desperate for some real life experience. Part of the reason he had asked Castiel to help him get out was to have a more normal teenage life. But the chances were that these local teenagers were Dean’s students, and that lent the situation more problems than was strictly necessary.

 

“Do you know any of these kids?” Castiel asked, still looking at Dean.

 

“I saw some of them yesterday, in your autograph line. It’s at some girl called Jo’s house?”

 

Samandriel didn’t sound too convinced.

 

“Jo? What does she look like?”

 

“Blonde hair, big blue eyes. Very bubbly. She scared me a little, but in a good way.”

 

“Sounds like Jo Harvelle. She’s a good kid. Can’t quite picture her mom letting her throw a party.” Dean was still addressing Castiel.

 

“Her mom might be away.”

 

“I could call her? Their number will be easy to grab.”

 

“I’d better do it. Avoids awkward questions that way.”

 

They stared at each other quietly for a few moments, the unspoken angst of their secret relationship heavy in the air between them until it seemed to dawn on them both that Samandriel was still patiently waiting for a reply. Castiel broke their eye contact, and Dean refocused on the brochure.

 

“As long as Jo’s mother is okay with it, its fine. Be home at a reasonable time, and call either of us if you feel uncomfortable, okay?”

 

Samandriel hesitated by the foot of the bed.

 

“What would be a reasonable time? Nine o’clock?”

 

Dean bit back a smile, and Castiel leaned into his shoulder.

 

“He’s too cute, isn’t he?” Castiel sounded a lot happier. “Samandriel, you can stay out until midnight if you want to, so long as that’s okay with Jo’s family. We trust you. Have fun.”

 

Samandriel took Castiel’s words as a dismissal, and walked out of their bedroom, back into his own.

 

“A party?” Castiel breathed, his hand skimming Dean’s knee.

 

“Kid’s growing up.”

 

“And Jo’s okay?”

 

Dean knew what Castiel was worried about.

 

“Yeah. She does okay with her studies. She’d probably do a lot better if she got her head down sometimes and didn’t try and get all the attention in class, but she’s harmless. Her mom’s tough, she wouldn’t let Jo mess up.”

 

Castiel exhaled slowly.

 

“I guess there’s one benefit to you being a teacher around here.”

 

“And not just the obligatory tweed?” Dean teased him. Castiel’s fingers curled slightly, his nails digging into Dean’s flesh.

 

“Maybe when Samandriel’s gone, we can fool around in your tweed. Where’s that number?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I tagged flashbacks, they begin in this chapter :) if you were thinking Castiel and Dean were a bit OOC before now, hopefully things will begin to make a little more sense?

“You didn’t have to drive me, Dean,” Samandriel muttered as Dean pulled up outside the Harvelle’s house.

 

“It’s not embarrassing, is it?” Dean turned around in his seat. “I could pull up around the block if you want?”

 

Samandriel looked out of the windscreen.

 

“You don’t embarrass me. And I know Castiel wants to keep an eye on me, and that’s fine. But I know he takes your privacy issue very seriously. You shouldn’t risk it on me.”

 

“Samandriel, you really don’t have to worry about it, okay? If anyone asks, you’re both staying with me while Jimmy and I catch up, okay? Otherwise, just have fun.”

 

Samandriel nodded, and made himself leave the car, closing the door with more caution than even Dean would. Dean watched as he walked up the pathway to the front door, where he rang the bell and waited, his whole body rigid. Jo’s mother opened the door, and Dean finally pulled away. But Samandriel was oblivious to his brother-in-law, he was nervous enough just attending the party.

 

“Hello,” Jo’s mother squinted up at him. “I don’t know you, do I?”

 

“My name is Samandriel, Jo invited me earlier today.”

 

She nodded, still squinting.

 

“You’re Jimmy Novak’s brother, aren’t you? There was a phone call I wasn’t expecting today.”

 

She smiled wryly, and stepped aside to allow him in. He didn’t move.

 

“Are you in or out, Sammy?”

 

“Um, it’s Samandriel,” he muttered as he shuffled inside.

 

“They’re in the basement. I hope you like junk food, I think Jo’s banned anything remotely healthy down there.”

 

She pointed out the door that he needed to use, and walked away. Samandriel took a deep breath and walked down, into a gaggle of teenagers who were sitting on any available surface, music playing in the background as they chatted and ate from the piles of junk food dotted around. Samandriel hadn’t been too sure what to expect from a party, but it wasn’t this. Jo waved at him from where she was squeezed onto a seat with another girl.

 

“Hey Samandriel! Thanks for coming,” she grinned. “Grab a seat.”

 

“There is no way you managed to get Samandriel Novak to your party!” One of the other girls squealed excitedly. Samandriel avoided the seat beside her, and ended up on the floor in front of Jo, who began toying with his hair absent-mindedly.

 

“It’s okay, I’ll be paying him later.” Jo laughed from behind him, bending forward to start talking to him. “I hope my mom wasn’t too hard-ass on your brother.”

 

This was part of the reason Samandriel had asked Castiel and Dean for permission to come to this party. Jo didn’t seem at all fazed by Jimmy’s success, and Samandriel’s connection to him. He knew Castiel worried that he was too trusting, but Samandriel had watched so many people try to use his older brother for money or fame in the past year alone. He liked to believe he could see when someone was genuine.

 

“I don’t think so. He found her amusing, at least.”

 

“Oh God, did she make some mom jokes? Ugh, I’m so sorry!”

 

“So, what’s Jimmy like?” A gangly boy sitting nearby interrupted the conversation. Samandriel felt disappointed that the conversation had quickly turned into a discussion about his brother, but he knew it would be rude to ignore the boy. He’d found Jo’s take on the situation easier to bear.

 

“He’s a good man,” Samandriel nodded, appreciating that Jo continued to fuss with his hair. The other boy wasn’t satisfied with the response, clearly.

 

“Uh-huh, but what’s he _like_?”

 

“Garth, shut up, come on. Samandriel probably gets asked about his brother all the damn time.”

 

“He’s okay with it, aren’t you?”

 

Garth took a huge mouthful of popcorn and began crunching it, as Samandriel folded his hands on his knees, and tried to remain placid.

 

“I spend a lot of time with him, I know him well. But he can be a private person, so I would rather respect his wishes and not talk too much about him.”

 

“Nicely done,” Jo whispered, and held out a dish full of candy for Samandriel to take. He scooped out a small handful and began eating the small pieces slowly, hoping the focus would leave him quickly.

 

“Have you met the mystery boyfriend?” Garth persisted. For a moment, Samandriel forgot Dean and Castiel’s cover stories, and wondered who Garth could possibly be referring to. And then he remembered, and nodded again.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Well?” Garth seemed unsatisfied by Samandriel playing it safe.

 

“Well, my brother is a private person, and his partner even more so.”

 

“This guy’s killing me,” Garth spoke over Samandriel’s head to Jo.

 

“You’re killing me, Fitzgerald. Shut up about Jimmy Novak already.”

 

“Said the fan girl,” one of the other guys laughed from across the room.

 

“One more,” Garth stuck in. “I promise, Harvelle, I’ll let up. It’s a good one! So, like, how in the hell does Mr Winchester even know you guys?”

 

_The bar was dingy, poorly lit by dim yellow bulbs. And yet Dean and Ash seemed to gravitate towards it, most likely because they never got carded. Dean ordered a beer for each of them, as Ash turned, and looked across the room, his face settling into a natural smirk._

_“I think you’ve done it already, Deano. You’ve gone through every chick in this bar.”_

_“Please, Ash. It’s not like any of them were a challenge.”_

_“You’re after a challenge?”  Ash’s grin widened. Dean knew the teasing tone of voice, and the size of the smirk well enough in the year that he’d known Ash. The chances were, he’d spotted a woman that they would both class as unattractive, and Dean was now under pressure to get inside her underwear._

_“Fine, bring it on.” Dean was never going to be one-upped by Ash._

_“That one.” Ash nodded his head up, and Dean followed his gaze, to the gawky, quiet, dark-haired man sitting in the corner, holding a beer glass and staring up at the ceiling._

_“Seriously, a dude?” Dean paid for their beers, and pulled one close, sipping the head off the amber liquid._

_“You see any chicks left?”_

_“Fine,” Dean shrugged. “Game on.” He picked up the other beer, and headed over to the dark-haired man before Ash realized that he’d lost his drink. Dean slipped onto the threadbare chair opposite his target, who didn’t seem to notice his presence. “Hey.”_

_The dark-haired man lowered his gaze, and frowned slightly as he noticed Dean in front of him. He looked around the bar quickly, and then back to Dean._

_“Hello.”_

_“I saw you at the bar, thought you looked lonely. And I hate seeing people lonely.”_

_The dark-haired man blinked rapidly._

_“Oh. Well, my brother is here too, dancing.”_

_They both looked around at the tiny makeshift dance floor, where there were a few bodies dancing together in near-darkness, and then back at each other._

_“So why aren’t you dancing as well?”_

_The dark-haired man cringed, and looked down at the beer in front of him. Dean waited for an answer, but it didn’t come._

_“Well, it’s a win for me, at least. Now we can sit here and talk.”_

_Dean leaned closer, as the man blinked again._

_“So, you’re at college?” He pushed Ash’s beer towards the man. He was hoping the offer of free beer would work as an icebreaker. Who didn’t appreciate free beer?_

_“Yes. Majoring in English.”_

_“Same.”_

_Finally, Dean saw the man give something close to a smile, and he realized how serious he’d been until then._

_“Yes, I thought you looked familiar. We’re in the same class.”_

_Dean nodded, though he couldn’t remember ever seeing this guy before._

_“Cassie! You’re making a friend!” A short, blond-haired man interrupted them, before Dean could think of more banal conversation. Cassie winced, and looked over at the man, who swiped the beer from in front of him and took a long slug of it._

_“Cassie?” Dean smirked. The guy spluttered on the beer._

_“Don’t ask. Dad was a total church nut, thought we’d all behave if we got named after angels, right Cassie?”_

_Dean watched as Cassie flinched, and ran his finger through the condensation that had pooled onto the table._

_“So, you’re the brother?”_

_“Yuh-huh. Gabe. Bet my brother’s been running your ear off about me, huh? All true. Cassie, talk about yourself some more, okay man?”_

_The guy put the glass back on the table, almost empty, and Cassie’s hand closed around it automatically. Dean watched him saunter back into the darkened crowd, and then turned his attention back to the project in front of him._

_“So, what’s your deal, Cassie?”_

_“Please, don’t call me Cassie.” He muttered quickly. “My name is Castiel.”_

_“So what, your brother’s Gabriel?” Dean laughed._

_“Yes. As he told you, Father named us after angels.”_

_“You know, at some point, you’re going to have to talk a little more than this. You trying to make me work for your attention?”_

_Castiel looked bewildered, and Dean wondered what this guy’s game was. He dropped his voice and leaned across the table, trying to create something intimate._

_“I’m trying to flirt here, you know,” he pushed Ash’s beer across the table. “This is for you, by the way.”_

_“I don’t drink. Gabe can have it.” Castiel spoke quickly again, and Dean leaned on one hand._

_“I’m not trying to get in Gabe’s pants.”_

_Castiel seemed to pale quickly, and he looked over his shoulder as though his brother would materialize quickly and save him._

_“Why don’t you drink?” Dean tried to save the conversation. Ash really knew how to pick them. This guy was a real challenge._

_“I don’t want to. It’s fine, Gabe will …” he looked around for his brother again._

_“How about we do a deal? It’s real simple. You don’t want my attention, you want me to leave? You don’t drink the beer. You like me being here, you want me to stay? You have to drink it.”_

_It was a big gamble. Castiel’s entire body language screamed that he was uncomfortable; the constant looking around for Gabriel was a big ‘help me!’ sign if ever there was one. But he hadn’t moved away either, and Dean wanted to see what he would do._

_“But …” Castiel frowned at the glass that Dean slid across the table. His eyes flickered between Dean and the glass. Dean raised one eyebrow and waited to see what would happen. When nothing did, he began to climb out of the chair._

_“Wait!”_

_Dean paused, hovering inches above the seat. He said nothing, but waited for Castiel, who slowly, timidly, pulled the glass closer and took the tiniest sip. Dean sat back down again._

_“That’s the best you got?”_

_“I … I don’t drink. But I’m grateful for the company.”_

_“So what are you even doing in this bar then?” Dean felt flummoxed. What was with this guy? And was he really going to lose a bet to Ash?_

_“Gabe was coming, and he told me I had to leave my room sometime and socialize. He made some very good points as to why I should. But I don’t think it comes as naturally to me as it does to him.”_

_“The beer will definitely help you relax.” Dean pointed out. Castiel looked at the glass warily._

_“Perhaps.” He cringed. “I’m aware I’ve just asked you to stay here with me, but I think I’d actually prefer to go back to my room now. This kind of socializing isn’t for me.”_

_There was a beat of silence, and Castiel’s eyes widened as it dawned on him what he was inferring._

_“Oh, sorry, no. I meant that, the bar and the drinking and … this doesn’t feel right. Thank you for making it more bearable.”_

_“Is that a compliment in there?” Dean teased. “If you wanna go, that’s cool. We can hang out in your room.”_

_Castiel hesitated again, but nodded._

_“I’ll just inform Gabriel that we’re leaving. Thank you …”_

_He was obviously expecting a name. Dean rarely gave it. But there was something about this one that made him realize that if he wanted to shut Ash up, he was probably going to have to play the long game._

_“Dean. Winchester.”_

_Castiel smiled, and walked cautiously over to his brother on the dance floor, trying not to touch any of the flailing bodies. Ash stole his seat in his absence._

_“Well?” Ash pressed. “No making out yet.”_

_“Nope, but we’re going to his room. So, you know, don’t wait up.”_

_“There’s no way that guy’s going to fuck you tonight.”_

_“Nope, I’ll screw him. Any hole’s a goal, right?”_

_“You’re sick, Winchester.”_

_“Shut up, he’s coming back,” Dean hissed. Castiel appeared by the table, not making the effort to sit again. He eyed Ash warily as Dean stood up too. “Everything okay with Gabe?”_

_“Yes. Who’s this?”_

_“My roommate, Ash. I don’t think you’re ready for him yet.”_

_Castiel nodded in that slow manner of his, and Dean placed a hand on the small of his back, propelling him towards the door._

_“So, where’s your dorm?” He asked as they stepped outside, walking down the pathway towards the college. He kept his hand on Castiel’s back._

_“Um, C block. I have a single.”_

_“Perfect.” Dean grinned, sliding his hand further around Castiel’s waist. Castiel seemed to suck in a breath. “What’s up?”_

_“Are you … are we … isn’t this a sin?”_

_Dean could have groaned aloud. Of course this guy would think that, he was named after a freaking angel. He didn’t drink. Ash sure knew how to pick them._

_“Isn’t what a sin?” Dean threw out, feeling exasperated._

_“Well, you said you were trying to flirt with me. That you were trying to get in my pants, which I presume is a euphemism for intercourse? Sodomy is definitely a sin. An entire town was demolished because of it.”_

_“Okay, what’s your deal?” Dean blurted. “Like, did you grow up in a cult or something?”_

_Castiel flinched._

_“And you know,” Dean couldn’t stop his mouth from running. “If a guy is making it obvious that he’s trying to pick you up, and you go with him? That’s usually a sign you want it too. So don’t judge me, okay?”_

_They continued walking in silence, and Dean began to wonder what would happen when they reached Castiel’s room, whether he’d be dismissed or Castiel would continue to politely lead him on. As they neared C block, Castiel began to talk._

_“In truth, my father did run our family in a similar fashion to those cults. We were homeschooled, on the understanding that when we graduated we would work for him and agree to any wife he picked for us, so that our family would continue unsullied. Most of my brothers and sisters went along with it. I guess they never questioned it because it was indoctrinated into us that it was the norm. But Gabe loved the idea of exploring the world, finding out what it had to offer. He was the first to leave, to escape from Father. I still don’t know how he did it, how he got out, what he wrote in his letter to father. I was too young._

_“And I managed to take on a lot of the coursework at a young age. I graduated at fourteen, which even my father agreed was too young to get married to any of his potential suitors. I wanted to come to college, to learn more, but Father hated the idea. Then I remembered my brother, who was travelling the world, seeing all the different cultures that we had barely heard of. Somehow, I managed to get in contact with him. He came back to help me break out. And since then, I’ve been trying to earn the money to come to college. I finally managed to get enough last year.”_

_Castiel’s speech had carried them right outside his dorm room. Dean had listened the entire time, wondering why Castiel was supplying his entire backstory, what it could possibly mean for their hook up. If they even were hooking up._

_“I love college, and spending time with my brother. I’m glad he helped me escape Father. But there are some ideas that are hard to quash. And the fact is- the fact is, you’ve paid me rather a lot of attention tonight, which no one has so far, and I suppose I’m flattered. And there’s something else too, some kind of … I don’t know, another type of curiosity? But I- I-“_

_Dean watched as he faltered for the words, and realized what Castiel was truly trying to communicate. He placed a hand on Castiel’s wrist, and watched as Castiel’s eyes flickered up to meet his._

_“Hey, your eyes are blue. Like, really blue.”_

_It wasn’t the appropriate thing to say, given what Castiel had just confessed, but the intensity in his eyes rendered Dean momentarily speechless. He tried again._

_“Look, we’ll go into your room, and we’ll talk. That’s all. Okay, maybe talk and share your bed, but only for sleeping. No funny business, I promise. Whatever I tell Ash in the morning.”_

_The corner of Castiel’s mouth twitched, as though he wasn’t sure that Dean was making a joke towards the end._

_“That seems acceptable.”_

_“What, that I’ll be telling my roommate about all the crazy sex we didn’t really have?”_

_This time, Castiel did smile, as he opened the door to his room._

_“You can tell him whatever you like, it’s whether he would believe you or not.”_

_Dean followed him into the pristine room, blinking as he looked around. The walls were bare, the bookshelves were orderly and the bed was covered in a plain blue blanket._

_“Dude, where’s your personality?” He couldn’t help but blurt out. Castiel closed the door, and began blinking rapidly again._

_“What do you mean? Your personality is intrinsic to who you are-”_

_“Yeah, and you show it with all the crap you have. Like, the room I share with Ash, it’s got his record player and all his seventy-eights. Might have an illegal hotplate too. Posters on the wall, junk like that.” It took a moment for Dean to consider that maybe Castiel’s story had more relevance._

_“So, I guess your family didn’t like personalities, huh? You finding yourself at college?”_

_He looked around at Castiel, who was now considering him with his head to one side._

_“I guess that’s accurate. It’s how Gabe describes his travelling. I thought it was unusual, the way he would talk of working with tea pickers in India as finding himself, but I think I’m starting to understand now.”_

_They looked at each other for a long moment, and Dean could feel a great weight settling on him. He knew then that this wasn’t going to be some random hook up. If he wanted anything other than a serious relationship, he had to leave right then. He couldn’t make his feet move. He had to say something to ease the pressure he suddenly felt though._

_“So what, you’re going to pick tea in India?” he croaked out. Castiel smiled again, and Dean could tell that you had to earn his smiles. It was an achievement to have earned so many, that much he could tell already._

_“No. But I have a feeling that when we’re not in class, or doing assignments, you’re going to be teaching me a lot. I’ll work out what I enjoy from there.”_

_Dean nodded, unable to think of how to carry on the conversation. He headed over to the bookshelves, and began looking at the spines of the books, which seemed to catalogue every title on their reading lists._

_“May I ask you a question, Dean?” Castiel asked as he sat on the edge of his bed. Dean looked around from the bookshelves._

_“Sure, shoot.”_

_Castiel looked slightly pale as he stumbled over his words._

_“Are you- do you take men back to your room often?”_

_“Well, we’re in your room,” Dean pointed out, and settled onto Castiel’s bed with him, sliding his arm around his waist again. “But no, I don’t. You’re the first.”_

_Castiel beamed, and Dean felt bad for telling a half-truth._

_“I’m staying here tonight, right?”_

_“Oh, yes, of course. You may have the bed.”_

_“Cas? We can share.”_

_Castiel looked around dubiously at the single, and Dean could tell that he probably had reservations about even sleeping in the same bed. Why had he agreed to have Dean come over?_

_“It’ll be fine, I’ll only take my pants and shoes off, okay? We can just sleep together, okay?”_

_Castiel nodded, still looking pained, and crossed over to his dresser, where he proceeded to take a set of pyjamas out of a drawer. Dean smiled to himself, and pulled off his shoes and jeans, climbing under the covers and watching as Castiel changed clothes with his back to the bed. When Castiel turned around, he held his arms out, but Castiel didn’t fall into them as he had expected. Instead, Castiel turned on the lamp beside the bed, and turned off the main light before he finally joined Dean in his own bed._

_“I’ve never shared a bed with anyone,” Castiel mused as he tried to manoeuvre into a comfortable position. Dean wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close against his chest._

_“I’m really not surprised.”_

_Castiel reached over and turned off the lamp, plunging them into darkness. They fell quiet, and Dean could feel Castiel trying to prop himself up, trying to avoid pressing too hard into his chest. Dean pulled him closer, reveling in the warmth of Castiel. Eventually they both relaxed, and Dean could feel his eyes closing._

_“Dean? Are we … are you my boyfriend?”_

_“Is that what you want?”_

_Castiel snuggled closer, his head finding a spot to rest near Dean’s collarbone, which made his hair tickle Dean’s cheek._

_“I think so. Yes. Yes, that would be nice.”_

_“Well, okay then.”_

_Dean closed his eyes, reflecting on the fact that he had never had a relationship before, and suddenly he was in one with a guy. He remembered thinking earlier that he was going to have to play the long game with Castiel, but he had never thought it would go on as long as it was now threatening to._

 

“So,” Castiel poured a beer into a glass, passing it to Dean, and curling up beside him on their plush love seat. “What do we do with our night of freedom?”

 

“I don’t know, what if Samandriel calls?”

 

Castiel tapped his glass of water.

 

“One of us will be safe to drive.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Dean shifted on the love seat, moving closer to his husband. Castiel curled up into his shoulder. “I meant because he might not feel comfortable. They’re good kids, but they’re not used to celebrities, and Samandriel isn’t used to other seventeen-year-olds.”

 

“So they get used to each other. And I get used to the taste of you again,” Castiel smirked, pressing closer and kissing Dean gently. Dean kissed him back, somehow placing his beer on the side table and pulling Castiel closer, on top of him, feeling somehow comforted by his firm body pressing down.

 

“I’ve missed you so much. Too much,” he moaned.

 

“It won’t be long until I’m back for six months, driving you crazy while I bunker down in the study and go nocturnal.”

 

“Still too long.”

 

“There’s Thanksgiving, we’ll be home for that. And Christmas at Sam and Gabe’s.”

 

Castiel’s hands began wandering, sliding up Dean’s shirt, his blunt nails scratching slightly, as their kisses became deeper, heavier. Dean could feel himself molding into Castiel’s touch, every fiber of his being craving the man on top of him.

 

“I like where this is going,” Dean whispered, his fingers curling into Castiel’s hair.

 

“Sex on the sofa, you mean?” Castiel smirked, and pulled off Dean’s shirt, flinging it across the room before looking down, and appreciating every millimeter of the man below him. Dean looked up at his face, watching as Castiel studied him, waiting for the verdict with a trace of apprehension. “Hey, your chest hair’s grown!”

 

Dean reached over and grabbed Castiel’s sweater, twisting the material in his hand as he pulled his husband back on top of him.

 

“Seriously, I could brush it.”

 

“Shut up and kiss me.” Dean mumbled. “We have a curfew to beat, after all.”

 

Castiel grinned, brushing his lips briefly against Dean’s.

 

“Bedroom, now. I don’t want to weird Samandriel out when he gets home by this room reeking of sex.”

 

He scooped up his cell phone, in case they got a call from his younger brother, and grabbed Dean’s hand, pulling him through their house and up the stairs into their room.


	7. Chapter 7

_Dean blinked his eyes open slowly, frowning at the room in front of him. It was like he’d just moved into the dorm, it was so bare and clean. He could feel someone pressed up against his back, but that didn’t bother him too much, it was a regular occurrence. It was either Ash trying to bait him, or else it was some chick he picked up the night before, drunk. The bare dorm room was much more concerning. Where was all his stuff?_

_Or did he go back to the girl’s place? Where was all her stuff? Most girls’ rooms he’d been in had all sorts of crap everywhere. Didn’t matter what style the girl had, if it wasn’t a bunch of skin products, or costume jewelry, it was handbags, or pictures, or teddies. Something. Girls were hoarders._

_He rolled over in the bed and looked at the person currently sharing the single with him, and it all came flooding back. Ash’s stupid challenge. The awkward angel boy who kept insinuating that Dean was doing something wrong while still agreeing to spending time with him. What had that even been about?_

_The guy was still asleep, his breathing quiet, and his body still, like he didn’t even know how to toss about restlessly. It would be easy for Dean to peel away, walk out the door and go back to his own dorm. He’d done it so many times before, after all. But there was something about this guy that made him hang around, just like the night before. Dean leaned up on one elbow, watching him sleep. Castiel, that was the guy’s name. He slept with his mouth slightly open, as if his full lips struggled to meet in the middle. His eyelashes were long, resting against his cheeks softly. His five o’clock shadow was already thick, so much that Dean wondered if he shaved twice a day._

_He still had time to leave, to slip out of the bed and pretend nothing had ever happened. To go back to his dorm and pretend to Ash that he had screwed this guy, then go to another bar and start working through whatever girls drank there. And yet he still lay there, watching this guy sleep._

_They hadn’t even kissed the night before. That bugged Dean a little. Or maybe he was stalling because he hadn’t beaten Ash at their game. Even if he told Ash he had scored, went into detail, he’d know it was a lie._

_And then it was too late, the guy was stirring, raising his hand and rubbing his eyes, frowning as he opened them slowly and focused on Dean._

_“Good morning,” his voice was deep, and he cleared his throat as Dean made note of the fact that Castiel seemed very alert. He wasn’t used to that. Ash took a good half hour to wake up, and Dean needed a few minutes, but this guy was ready to go._

_“Morning.”_

_Dean wondered what would happen next. He didn’t wake up with anyone, except when Ash crawled into his bed, and his usual solution to that was to shove his roommate out to wake him up. And yet he felt compelled to do something, to touch this guy or talk to him._

_“I apologize for not having a toothbrush you could use. It would be unsanitary to share.”_

_Dean was immediately worried about his morning breath, something he normally didn’t have to think about._

_“Sorry,” he muttered._

_“Why are you apologizing? Did you already use my brush?” Castiel blinked, and Dean found himself looking into his eyes. Those deep blue eyes that looked like the summer sky._

_“No, I thought you were implying … never mind.”_

_Castiel frowned, and looked across the room, running his hand through his hair._

_“We should get up. It’s almost eight.”_

_“In the morning? On a Sunday? Are you trying to get rid of me?” Dean laughed nervously. Hadn’t he just been debating an escape plan? And yet he hated the idea of leaving this bed._

_“No. It’s getting rather late to be laying in a bed, don’t you think?”_

_Dean laughed a little more freely._

_“Babe, I’m never awake at this time on a Sunday.”_

_Castiel frowned, and looked at the clock once more._

_“Your logic is baffling. You are awake, it’s a Sunday. Therefore it can’t be nev-“_

_Dean cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips._

_“Do you take everything literally?” He tried to ignore how soft Castiel’s lips felt under his finger. “Let’s just stay here for a while. Talk, make out, whatever. Get to know each other better.”_

_He needed to beat Ash at this game. He held Castiel’s gaze as he stroked his finger down, leaving those lips behind, though they puckered slightly as they caught on his fingers, and stroking down his chin, feeling that heavy stubble beneath his finger tips._

_“I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” Castiel whispered. Dean watched the movement of his lips, and frowned at Castiel’s words. And then he remembered what was said as he was falling asleep. Castiel had asked him out, hadn’t he? And he’d agreed._

_“Yeah, me neither.”_

_“No, I mean,” Castiel shifted on the bed, turning slightly towards Dean. “I have never had a partner. At all. Father wouldn’t let us court, not until we were of the correct age. It had to be someone he approved of, and he would never have recommended another man to me. I used to dread coming of age, it was only when Gabe saved me that I worked out why. But I’ve never understood how it happens, how you meet someone and decide to be with them, how you communicate that without misunderstanding.”_

_“You asked me out,” Dean pointed out._

_“You requested my company.”_

_“Cas? You asked if you were my boyfriend.”_

_“This is mutual, is it not?”_

_Dean looked back up into his eyes._

_“Sure.” He could have a relationship. He was sure he could manage a relationship. How hard would it be to sleep with the same person more than once?_

_“You don’t seem confident about that fact.”_

_Dean smiled, bending closer to Castiel._

_“I might be more confident if you kissed me.”_

_Castiel pursed his lips briefly._

_“I’ve never kissed anyone,” he confessed in a whisper. Dean’s fingers traced across his stubble as he slowly cupped his face._

_“I’ll go slow then,” Dean promised, bearing down on him._

_“I don’t want my first kiss to be in a bed.” Castiel was slightly louder. “Please, Dean, can’t it be somewhere more romantic?”_

_Dean changed direction, and burrowed his head into Castiel’s pillow, trying not to groan in frustration. Yeah, Ash had picked a huge challenge._

_“So what, do we have to be married to have sex too?” Dean snarked, his voice muffled by his pillow._

_“Ideally.”_

Castiel’s stop over didn’t last long enough. They never did. Dean felt like he was scrabbling to hold onto Castiel’s shirt, to stop him walking out of the door.

 

“Dean,” Castiel chuckled, though the laughter was tainted with an edge of sadness. “A couple more weeks, okay?”

 

“I’m going to miss you,” Dean mumbled against Castiel’s shoulder.

 

“I already miss you.” Castiel wrapped his arms around his husband. Dean knew he had to man up a little, since Samandriel was standing nearby, watching this spectacle. “A couple more weeks, then I’m home for Thanksgiving.”

 

They fell quiet, holding each other close, trying to savor each other enough before Castiel had to leave.

 

“Dean? If I don’t go now, someone will see me, and there’ll be so many awkward questions …”

 

Dean nodded, and gave him one last, brief squeeze before letting him go.

 

“Call me when you get there.”

 

Castiel nodded, and left the house without another word. Dean closed the door behind him, pressing his head against the wood of the door and listening to the sounds of Castiel and Samandriel walking to the car and starting it up.

 

One day, he told himself, he would be brave enough to drive Castiel to the airport himself, to have their goodbye outside of security, where he could cling to him until the very last second. One day it wouldn’t matter.

 

*

 

Going back into school was painful. It was always tough when Castiel went away, but this time was more difficult. Bela, Lisa and Pamela asked him endless questions about how well he felt and was he ready to come back, and suggestion after suggestion of remedies ‘for next time’. And the cherry on the sundae was being called in to Zachariah’s office to discuss Jimmy at the fundraiser.

 

“I’m really not impressed, Dean. He shows up, full of attitude, he does half the job, he steals the money, and then you take two days off when I need to get to the bottom of this.”

 

Dean forced himself not to react petulantly. He sat straight in his chair and focused on the Principal.

 

“I’m sorry I got sick. But I don’t see how I’m to blame for Jimmy.”

 

“He was your suggestion, he’s your friend!”

 

Dean held on to the arms of the chair.

 

“How much money did he steal?”

 

Zachariah’s face started to redden again.

 

“That’s not the point! We hired him to sign autographs and take photos and raise enough money to cover the new roof.”

 

In another life, Dean would have pointed out that they never hired Castiel, that he’d been tricked into helping out because Zachariah withheld information from them.

 

“Did we not raise enough?”

 

“We did, luckily, but that’s still beside the point!”

 

“Okay. Do you want me to cover the difference between what he took and what we owed him? I’m guessing he took too much.”

 

Zachariah was bright red.

 

“Just … just … go back to class!”

 

Dean left the room, and headed back to the English department, where Pamela and Bela were clustered around Lisa’s desk, gossiping.

 

“I can’t believe he took you out!” Lisa squealed, all three women ignoring Dean. He tried to ignore them back, pulling out his notes for his next class to study. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help but overhear the gossip.

 

“I know, it was amazing. So intimate. He said the restaurant was exclusive, which was great because he wanted the privacy.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes at the piece of paper in front of him. Bela was always exaggerating to seem more impressive than the other two women. She reacted frostily if you reminded her that she was still a high school teacher.

 

“So, was he as charming as he seems on TV?” Pamela stuck in. “He seems like he can melt your panties with one look.”

 

“You have to be wearing panties for that to happen,” Bela announced proudly. “I’m so glad Dean asked him to the fundraiser.”

 

She finally had Dean’s attention. His mind immediately jumped to Samandriel, and he wondered if his young brother-in-law had lied about the party in order to date Bela. It didn’t seem like Samandriel. And when Castiel brought him back from the party, he had mentioned sitting in Jo’s basement, talking and eating candy. He’d remarked how different it had seemed to a party in a movie, and then excused himself to go to bed. That, at least, had tallied with Dean’s understanding of Samandriel, Jo, and Jo's friends.

 

“So, are you seeing him again?” Lisa pressed.

 

“It depends on his schedule, I guess. But even if nothing else happens, how many women can say they’ve dated Jimmy Novak?”

 

Dean’s stomach turned, and his chest felt tight. He looked up at the three women, who had their backs to him, still giggling around Lisa’s desk.

 

“When did he take you out?” Dean asked casually. Bela looked around at him, frowning. Dean didn’t normally begin conversations.

 

“Sunday night. At that cute little French restaurant.”

 

Relief percolated through the tension in his chest. Bela was lying through her teeth. There was no way that Castiel could have been on a date with her when he was so bloody-minded about getting in Dean’s pants. He’d been worried more that Castiel had sought some kind of revenge on the Saturday, after the fundraiser. He’d annoyingly not told Dean what he’d been up to in his absence, before finally coming home.

 

“Oh, right. He told me he was seeing his boyfriend then,” Dean shrugged, and went back to his notes. Bela sat up straighter, seeming agitated.

 

“You know, the whole boyfriend thing is a lie.” She pronounced. Dean’s heart stuttered. Yes, the ‘boyfriend thing’ was a lie when they were married. “He said it’s a marketing ploy, and really, he likes taking out beautiful women.”

 

Dean tried not to snort out laughter, but he couldn’t swallow the smirk that ended up the by-product.

 

“Just because you went to college together, Dean, it doesn’t mean you know everything about him.”

 

“I know enough,” Dean shrugged, and scooped his possessions up, leaving the room before he could hear Bela’s indignant reply.

 

 

_Dean was sprawled on the bed, reading a book when the door opened. His eyes flicked up, and he smiled as Castiel walked into the room, dropping his bag near the desk and closing the door behind him. Dean looked back at his book, trying to maintain an aura of innocence._

_“Have you moved in?” Castiel asked, looking around at the new decorations on the wall._

_“I don’t know what you mean,” Dean bit back a smile._

_“Dean, this looks like your room. The one you share with Ashley.”_

_“Is that a problem?” He kept his eyes trained on the book._

_“We’ve been together a week.”_

_“Is that a problem?” Dean repeated._

_“Have you even been back to your room since we met each other in the bar?”_

_Dean pretended to carry on reading. The truth was, he loved spending time with Castiel. He was so unpredictable, so different from anyone else Dean had met. Ash’s challenge had flown out of the window some time on Tuesday, when Gabriel had left to travel across South America. Dean had driven both brothers to the airport, and Castiel had spent the drive back home asking endless questions about his music choices. There was a fascination in Castiel’s voice that Dean wanted to lock in a box and keep._

_“Dean,” Castiel’s tone held an attempt at impatience that Dean found adorable. God, he had it bad already._

_“Now, how can you ask if I’ve been back to my room when you’re saying it looks like my stuff’s here? Clearly you’re forgetting that I took you back there.”_

_“You know what I mean. When did you get the time to do this?”_

_“I didn’t have creative writing class for the last two hours.” Dean shrugged. Castiel walked closer, and removed the book from his hand, sitting beside him on the bed._

_“I don’t want to get in trouble if you’re moving in. This is meant to be a single.”_

_“So? My name’s still on Ash’s room. But you can’t expect me to stay in here without my toothbrush, or a change of clothes. Unless you don’t want me to stay in here.”_

_“Is this some kind of protest over the fact I had nothing on my wall a week ago?”_

_“Some kind of protest over how hot you are.”_

_Castiel stared at him for a moment, and then returned to his bag._

_“I have a short story project to write. Just don’t make a mess.”_

_Dean grinned, and grabbed the book back off the side table, watching as Castiel prepared his desk and began to write. It was okay that they hadn’t kissed yet, that they barely touched each other except at night when Dean insisted that they at least cuddle. It was fine that Castiel pretended to be bothered by how forward Dean was all the time. There was no problem with the fact that Dean found himself dedicating a lot of time to studying, because Castiel chose to work so hard and it motivated Dean to do the same. He was pretty sure there was something big brewing between them, and even though the commitment scared him, it scared him more to think of a day going by without Castiel in it._


	8. Chapter 8

Dean had just bought out what felt like half the groceries in the local supermarket. Thanksgiving was a couple of days away, and he wanted to be fully prepared for his brother’s latest health kick, and Gabriel’s incessant sweet tooth. He was trying to fit all the Cheetos he’d bought for Samandriel and his cheese cravings into the back of the Impala when he heard jeering laughter, and a few soft thuds followed by a weakened moan. He shut the car up, and ran to the nearby hedgerow where the noises seemed to be coming from. There, he spotted a few hulking teenagers in sports gear, crowding around something on the floor.

 

“Hey-“

 

“Oh, shit, it’s Mr Winchester!” Someone hissed, and everyone disbanded before Dean could jump over the bushes and find out what the hell was going on. He made it over and found someone small curled up into a ball, covered in dirt and crying.

 

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” He asked softly. He knew that maybe he should chase the teenagers, who _had_ to be students at the school, but something kept him with their victim. They carried on crying, shaking their head slightly as they hugged their knees close. He recognized the pose from her stance in his classes. “Charlie?”

 

She cried harder, and he knelt besides her, smoothing her hair back from her face, his fingers coming away with fresh blood.

 

“Charlie, you need to get checked out, okay? I need to get you to a hospital.”

 

She shook her head violently, and scrambled to get up. He placed his hands tentatively on her shoulders.

 

“Charlie, your head is bleeding. I need to do something. Where do you live? I’ll take you home, and your mom can-“

 

“My mom works two jobs,” Charlie whimpered, hiccupping through her tears. “She’ll be home late.”

 

Dean knew he shouldn’t do what he was about to suggest, but he couldn’t see any other option.

 

“Okay, I’ll bring you to my house. You can take a bath, get cleaned up, and I’ll patch up that cut on your head. You can stay until your mom gets home, okay?”

 

Charlie sniffed, and Dean slowly helped her stand, noting that she couldn’t stand straight up, and instead was clutching her side while wincing. Dean led her over to the Impala, and helped her into the front seat, then put the rest of his groceries inside. He drove out of the store’s lot as she curled up in the front seat, her tears beginning to subside.

 

“You got a lot of groceries,” she sniffed, still clutching her side.

 

“My family is coming over for Thanksgiving. Is it just going to be you and your mom?”

 

Charlie sighed.

 

“Mom has to prep for Black Friday. It’ll just be me.”

 

In another lifetime, Dean would have just invited Charlie into his home. His mom would have fussed over her, his dad would have grunted a hello, and Sam would have nerded at her until she broke. But now he had to consider his status as her teacher, and his relationship with Castiel. As much as he wanted to help her, he couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

 

“So, why were those kids beating on you? And who were they?”

 

“Are you kidding me? Narking to a teacher will just get me beat up worse.”

 

Dean looked at her briefly out of the corner of his eye.

 

“So, you can’t even tell me why they were doing it?”

 

Charlie sighed heavily, then moaned as it hurt her side, and stared out the window.

 

“Is it because you beat out Kevin Tran again?”

 

Charlie snorted.

 

“Yeah, that’s it. All the other kids totally care about the one per cent difference between my grades and Kevin’s. And just to make it seem even more evil, Kevin’s one of the nearly okay people at school. No one would ever suspect the dork then, right?”

 

Dean could hear the heavy sarcasm in Charlie’s voice.

 

“Puh-lease, Mr Winchester. The way Kevin’s mom steps in and fights all his battles? I’m surprised he doesn’t get beat on worse than me. I guess because he brought his cousin to homecoming, everyone already feels sorry for him.”

 

Dean pulled up outside his house, which was on the outskirts of town. Charlie looked out at the building, her mouth quirking to one side.

 

“I always wondered who lived out here, no neighbors or nothing. Don’t you get lonely?”

 

Dean leaned back on his seat in the Impala. He was lonely whenever Castiel was away, but Charlie wasn’t to know that. Charlie was talking again, anyway.

 

“Oh, wait yeah, you’re married. Even though no one’s seen your wife. Is she home?”

 

“I need to get the Turkey away,” Dean changed the subject. “And you need to get cleaned up and patched up. I can wash up your clothes if you want, lend you something in the mean time.”

 

He knew it was risky, even implying that Charlie should change her outfit in his house. He wasn’t giving himself much protection if she claimed he was trying anything untoward. And what defense could he realistically give if she did? No one knew the truth. Charlie seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

 

“Wow. Not every day a teacher asks you to get naked after they find you getting the crap kicked out of you.”

 

“Not quite what I was saying, Charlie.”

 

She looked at him for a moment, and then climbed out of the car. He did the same, reaching in the back for some grocery bags and bringing them to the front door. He let Charlie in and pointed her towards the bathroom and the laundry room before heading into the kitchen. He could hear Charlie moving around, and starting the bathtub as he put away all the food, and put her clothes in to wash.

 

He heard a car crunching down their driveway, and the engine shutting off. He crossed to the front window, and saw Castiel and Samandriel heading up the front stoop, before he rushed to the front door and yanked it open. Castiel looked up at him, grinning.

 

“Surprise!”

 

“Shhhhh!” Dean hissed, and gestured for them to both hurry in. They did, and the moment the front door was closed, Castiel began kissing his face relentlessly. He didn’t seem to care what part of Dean’s face he even got, so long as they made contact. “Cas, Cas, babe, stop!”

 

“Yeah, sure, I’m going to stop,” Castiel smiled wickedly. “Samandriel-“

 

“Already going!” Samandriel called from somewhere behind Dean, and then they could hear him running up the stairs.

 

“We had a stop in this state, remember? We cancelled tomorrow’s gig, so voila, we’re home early for Thanksgiving!”

 

Castiel was gripping Dean’s face, kissing him hard before he could respond, pressing him against the door and starting the motions that Dean had been craving even in their short week apart. He forced himself to focus.

 

“Babe, we have to stop.”

 

“Nope. Not happening. Samandriel won’t leave his room until we give the all cle-”

 

“There’s a student here.” Dean finally ground out. “I found her getting beaten up. She can’t go home, she doesn’t want the hospital. I thought it’d be fine if she came over.”

 

Castiel paused in his attack on Dean’s face, his lips pressed up near Dean’s eye.

 

“Shit.” He breathed.

 

“Yeah. Sorry.”

 

“Okay, I’ll grab Samandriel, and we’ll go somewhere until you call us, okay? And then-”

 

“Mr Winchester?”

 

They groaned together, still pressed against each other at the door. Dean looked around Castiel, and saw Charlie standing at the top of the stairs, wearing a bathrobe and holding her arms around her stomach tightly. She walked down a couple of steps, looking at the scene in front of her with furrowed brows. Dean knew if she looked to her right, she would see a picture of them sitting on an old, rusted Bug.

 

“Charlie? Is your stomach okay?”

 

“My side still hurts. And my head. I think I have concussion. Is … is that Jimmy Novak?”

 

_“I’m still not sure about this,” Castiel protested. Dean took one hand off the wheel and reached across the bench to take his hand._

_“It’ll be fine, Cas.”_

_“How many people have you brought home so far?”_

_“To actually meet my family? None. Mom will be so happy that I’m actually introducing someone that no one will care you’re a guy, okay?”_

_“It still seems,” Castiel heaved a sigh. “It’s hard for me not to think that all parents will be like mine, Dean. All the friends I was permitted growing up came from the same world, they had the same upbringing. They all thought it was shameful, to be what we are.”_

_“What, happy?” Dean pulled into the driveway, and cut the engine. He looked over at Castiel, and squeezed his fingers again. “Don’t worry about it, okay? My mom is the best, you’ll see.”_

_They climbed out of the car, and Dean let them in the house, leading Castiel into the kitchen, where his mom was baking, her blonde hair caught up in a bandana and a smudge of flour across her forehead as she worked some dough on the counter._

_“Smells great in here,” Dean announced, sniffing the air hopefully. She looked up from her project, and her face broke into a large smile._

_“Dean! Oh, honey, you could have called to say you were nearly home! Your father’s gone to help Bobby with something. I told him you’d come home when he was out but he was so positive that Bobby needed him. He said you’d live without him being home. Like that’s the reason I wanted him to wait.” She wiped her hands on her apron, and Dean caught her up in a hug regardless._

_“Where’s Sammy?”_

_“In his room. Jess is over, so I thought I’d give them some time alone. Do me a favor when you go up there, and make sure his door is still open? He knows the rules.” She pulled out of their hug, holding Dean’s biceps as she regarded Castiel. “So, this is the friend you told me about?”_

_“Yeah, this is Castiel. Cas, this is Mom. She makes the best apple pie on the planet.”_

_Mary blushed, and headed back to her dough._

_“Well, I guess I’m lucky that I made two for you coming home, huh? They’re both in the oven, but they’re for after dinner.”_

_“So what are you doing now?” Dean asked, sliding into a chair opposite her workstation. Castiel stood with his back straight, hovering near the door._

_“Cookies. Sam was telling me the other day that Jess has a weakness for cookies. Castiel, what do you think I should put in them? Dean’s suggestions are never helpful.”_

_They both looked at Castiel, who blinked furiously over being involved in their cookie discussion._

_“Oh, um …” he shrugged, and Dean slapped the counter._

_“Get out. You’ve never had a cookie?”_

_“No.”_

_“What did you guys get for dessert? Or snacks?”_

_Castiel frowned, and Dean heard the answer loud and clear._

_“That sucks,” he turned to his mother. “Cas’ family are like, scary religious.”_

_Mary stopped working the dough, and cocked her head._

_“Dean, don’t be so judgmental.”_

_“No, seriously. His older brother bailed so he could not get married at eighteen, and then he helped Cas escape six years later. It sounds like a total jail break.”_

_“I wish this was one of those times you were exaggerating,” Castiel whispered. Mary gave him a look that was full of pity._

_“Well, you’re welcome here, Castiel. I’ll make you some double chocolate chip,” she decided, and opened up a pot as Dean grinned at Castiel._

_“Mom’s going to ruin all other cookies for you on your first go.”_

_Castiel gave Dean a small smile._

_“Sounds familiar.”_

_Dean frowned, not understanding Castiel’s implication._

_“Dean? Please go take your stuff up. And check on Sam. I take it Castiel’s sharing your room?”_

_Dean slid off the seat, and kissed her forehead as she leaned forward to work the chocolate chips into the dough, before leading Castiel out into the hallway, and up the stairs. He rapped on Sam’s closed door as they walked past._

_“Sammy, you know Mom’s rule! Dad’s at Uncle Bobby’s, bet he comes home with a new-old shotgun.”_

_They carried on walking, and Dean opened his bedroom door for Castiel as Sam’s slid open. He hung his head out of the door, his cheeks flaming red as his hair hung loose around his mottled face._

_“We weren’t doing anything. It’s bull that I get all these rules just because you got caught sleeping your way through the cheerleading squad.”_

_Dean could feel Castiel’s accusatory gaze, so he remained focused on his younger brother._

_“Maybe, but they think Jess is a Nice Girl.”_

_Sam scowled, and nodded at Castiel._

_“Who’s that, your boyfriend?”_

_“Big comeback, short stack.” Dean avoided the accusation. Castiel looked over at Sam, taking in his overgrown frame before looking back at Dean._

_“He say anything?”_

_Dean peered at Castiel, knowing that Sam was referring to his silence. Castiel looked back intently, and Dean tried to fight the hypnotizing sensation he felt in Castiel’s gaze. Instead, he gave Castiel a few of his favorite Sam insults._

_“Bigfoot and Sasquatch are favorites. There’s some kid who calls him Moose too. But Giganotosaurus and Godzilla are acceptable.”_

_Castiel shot him one small frown, before turning back to Sam._

_“My name is Castiel.”_

_“So, what are you, the guy he’s cribbing off this semester? Or his wingman?” Sam leaned against his doorframe, and Dean disappeared inside his own room. Castiel wanted to follow Dean inside, and ask why he wasn’t being introduced as his boyfriend. Or what had happened with the cheerleading squad, or did their father really have a shotgun? But he knew he couldn’t be impolite to Dean’s brother._

_“We met a week in to this semester, we haven’t really spent much time apart since,” Castiel muttered._

_“So you’re both.” Sam stated. Dean reappeared, and put a hand on Castiel’s arm, trying to pull him into the room. “Mom put the airbed in there for you. She said Castiel better be getting your bed, or so help her Dean Robert Winchester, you are a dead man.”_

_“Mom loves me.”_

_“Castiel? Ignore my brother. You’re having the bed.”_

_Dean rolled his eyes, and tugged a little harder on Castiel’s arm._

_“Of course he’s sleeping in my bed. What do you take me for?” Dean started walking backwards into the room, still holding Castiel’s arm. “Come on Cas, we’ll grab our laundry and leave it downstairs for Mom, then see if we can grab some cookie dough.”_

_Castiel looked at Sam as Dean managed to make his feet slide into the room._

_“It was nice to meet you. Please excuse me.”_

_“I like your boyfriend better than you!” Sam called into the room. Dean headed back for the door, and grinned at his younger brother._

_“Yep, I do too.” And he shut his own bedroom door, turning around and grinning at Castiel, who shook his head slowly._

_“So, we’re allowed to close the bedroom door despite your previously unmentioned promiscuous youth, but your brother isn’t?”_

_“Yeah, pretty much.” Dean shrugged, and started going through his bag for his dirty clothes._

_“Do they even know that I’m your boyfriend? And didn’t I ask you about that when we first met?”_

_“Not yet, and no. You asked me about other guys. No mention of girls.”_

_“Dean,” Castiel’s tone was a warning, but Dean pretended not to notice. He tapped Castiel’s nose._

_“Castiel,” he returned the tone, and stroked Castiel’s forearms. “Look, it meant nothing, it was just fooling around. You’re still my first relationship, first person being introduced to my family. You’re still special.”_

_“I’m not looking to be special, Dean. I wish to be in an honest relationship.”_

_Before Dean could answer, there was a knock on the door._

_“Mom says you have to keep it open too!” Sam called through the wood. “She said Castiel seemed too nice for you to mess up.”_

_Dean closed his eyes for a moment, hoping that Castiel wouldn’t read too much into his brother’s words._

_“Honestly? I have no idea what I’m doing with you, Cas. Not like that, just … I mean, I didn’t even know what to do the first time I woke up next to you, or when we spent the whole day studying because you wanted to. But mostly, I don’t know how to say goodbye. I don’t want to.”_

_He opened his eyes, and saw Castiel frowning at him._

_“I’ll tell them over dinner, okay? I thought face-to-face would be better.”_

_He wanted to step forward and kiss Castiel. He always wanted to kiss his confused face, but he knew he had to wait until Castiel decided the setting was romantic enough. Instead, he let go of Castiel’s arms, and reopened his bedroom door, running back down to the kitchen. Castiel was a few steps behind._

_*_

_“No.”_

_John’s tone was final. He stabbed his slab of pie viciously with a fork, and Dean spluttered at him ineffectively._

_“No? What, you suddenly control who I go out with?”_

_“It’s a phase.”_

_“No, it’s not. Dad, you don’t know anything.”_

_“You think I never experimented in my lifetime? It’s a phase. And fine, you go through a phase where you get a tattoo or wear black and listen to Marilyn Manson for weeks on end, you’re really only hurting yourself, but this gay thing hurts your mother, and that’s not okay with me.”_

_Dean glared at his father, as Castiel left the room. He threw down his napkin and ignored his own huge portion of pie to follow Castiel from the room, out of the house and into John’s collection of half-fixed cars. He found him sitting on the bulbous cap of a Volkswagen Bug, cupping his chin in his hands._

_“You’re not a phase, Cas.” He promised as he stood in front of the dark-haired man._

_“Maybe you’re a phase. Maybe I misinterpreted my reservations about the girls I would potentially court.”_

_“Did you misinterpret it when I asked you out?”_

_“I thought I asked you?”_

_“Even more proof.” Dean sat on the hood of the bug too, close enough to Castiel that they could touch if they wanted, but still leaving the distance in case he was reading Castiel wrongly. “Cas, my dad … he’s old. Like, from another generation. They worry about shit like that. They don’t always get it. And this place doesn’t help that, it’s stuck in the Stone Age about sexuality.”_

_“No one at college knows I’m your boyfriend. You could easily walk away from this.”_

_“Ash knows. He was making the same comments about us moving in together that you were. And you could walk away too. You’re the one with the hang-ups about kissing and stuff. And I’m glad for that, I’m glad we didn’t hook up that first night because I wouldn’t have stuck around to get to know what a great guy you were. Don’t prove my dad right.”_

_“Would me not being with you prove him right?”_

_Dean felt exasperated. He slumped forward, his head in one hand._

_“If we weren’t together, Cas, I’d still be sleeping around. I wouldn’t be thinking about where I’m going to live next year, or what job I could get that means I can look after you properly. I don’t think of you as a phase, you’re a change. A good one. He’s just going to have to deal with that.”_

_“You’re thinking about our future?” Castiel’s tone was softer. Dean didn’t dare to look up._

_“I know, it’s corny. But I know you want to write novels and stuff. I wanna do what I can to make sure that happens, that you have enough to eat, enough coffee to keep you going, put a roof over your head. And I wanna wake up next to you every morning, talk to you all the time. Yeah, I want a joint future.”_

_Castiel shifted on the hood, the cap groaning slightly under the adjustment._

_“Dean?” He gently slid his hand under Dean’s chin, turning his head until they had eye contact. Castiel pursed his lips slightly, before leaning closer, pressing their mouths together. Dean forced himself not to overreact, not to release some of the pent up sexual tension that he felt. Instead, he let Castiel dictate their kiss, taking direction from his boyfriend. They separated before Dean was ready, and Castiel smiled weakly. “I want a joint future too.”_

_“I’m glad you’re here for Thanksgiving,” Dean blurted, and Castiel smiled._

_“Me too. You weren’t kidding about your mother being a phenomenal cook.”_

_“As if you ever doubted Mary Winchester.” Dean grinned, and pulled Castiel close, for once not worrying about going too far. “Talking of my mom and cooking, what did you mean earlier? When I said she was going to ruin all cookies for you straight out the gate and you said it sounded familiar?”_

_“Well,” Castiel looked off into the distance, where Bobby’s junkyard began to back on to John’s. “I was thinking of you. You’re my first boyfriend, and my first kiss now. And you’re definitely ruining me for every other guy out there.”_

_“Good thing they don’t get a look in,” Dean smirked, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and pressing their mouths together once more. “I’m not letting you go without a fight, Cas.”_

 

Charlie was in clothes that Samandriel had lent her, and was sitting on the couch while Dean, Castiel and Samandriel stood in front of her, the drapes already closed for the day, and the light on in the room to combat the gloom.

 

“So … okay, have I got this right? You’re the secret boyfriend. But you’re not really, because you’re actually the husband. And you’re Jimmy Novak, except you’re not, because you’re Castiel. And you’re still Samandriel.”

 

She pointed through the three of them, trying to break it down.

 

“In essence.” Castiel mused, then turned to Dean. “I still don’t feel right, telling her.”

 

Dean crossed his arms, leaning closer to Charlie.

 

“I think she knows not to tell the entire world.”

 

“If she’s getting beaten by the other kids at school, why wouldn’t she use our secret as currency?”

 

“The other kids at your school, Dean?” Samandriel asked softly. “I wouldn’t have thought any of them were capable of hurting another person. I enjoyed spending time with Jo and Garth and their friends.”

 

Charlie’s eyes grew large, and she focused on Samandriel.

 

“You hung out with the popular kids? How? When? What did they say about me?”

 

Dean and Castiel stared at each other, trying to communicate without including either teenager.

 

“Nothing. They talked about some guy called Charlie hitting on Jo, but that was it. Jo told them to leave it alone pretty quickly.”

 

Dean saw Charlie’s reaction out the corner of his eye, and then smiled briefly at Castiel.

 

“There’s only one Charlie in the student body,” he told his husband.

 

“The one in this room.”

 

“The one and only.”

 

“The lesbian who wanted a guy’s autograph,” Castiel sounded thoughtful. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

 

They turned and looked at Charlie together.

 

“I think we can reach an understanding where Charlie gets patched up, and we give her help on the whole being in the closet thing, and she doesn’t say a thing about our marriage. Can’t we, Charlie?”

 

“In my defense,” Charlie began. “Jo is really pretty. And I didn’t hit on her. I just can’t help but look, sometimes. I forget to look away.”

 

Dean nudged Castiel.

 

“She sounds like us.”

 

“She sounds like you,” Castiel corrected. “Samandriel, can you get the first aid kit? We’ll need it anyway, we’re probably low on antacids and you know what Gabriel’s like at Thanksgiving. When do they get in?”

 

“Tomorrow, I’m meant to get them at the airport once school’s over. I’ll grab the antacids on the way there.”

 

They waited for Samandriel to come back, and Dean checked the scratch on Charlie’s head while Castiel headed out to the kitchen.

 

“Guess I don’t have to worry about you feeling me up or something, huh? I have too much boob to be your type.”

 

“You have too little Cas to be my type.” Dean corrected.

 

“So, why are you the Secret Boyfriend anyway? Doesn’t it bug you when the magazines link him to a bunch of different actors?”

 

“It bothers me that those magazines think Cas would go for those guys, I guess. But it scares me more, thinking that I would lose my job because someone naive would be too homophobic to understand the truth.”

 

He pointed to Charlie’s side, and she allowed him to look under her shirt at the spot that had given her trouble. He could see some bruising already, and he shot her an apologetic look before he tentatively pushed a finger against her side, feeling for damage.

 

“So, since you know that I actually have a husband, and that he’s famous, do I get to know what happened this afternoon?”

 

“Why would you lose your job for being gay? Why does it matter anyway? Jimmy’s really famous, I bet he’s loaded.”

 

Dean pressed his finger in a little harder, and she winced.

 

“It’s not about the money. It’s about a promise I made to him. And if you’re going to be all money oriented, at one point my teacher’s salary was all we had. Why were Benny and his friends beating you up?”

 

“Because Fergus likes Jo, and he wanted to make sure I stop checking her out. Told me she would never go for a ginger lesbian so just give it up already. As if I didn’t know that. They said one of the other girls told them I was checking out Jo in the locker room after gym.”

 

Samandriel returned with the first aid kit, and set about cleaning Charlie’s cut and covering it with sticking plasters while Dean gently wrapped some gauze around the bottom of her rib cage.

 

“Mr Winchester? Please don’t follow those guys up on what happened today. I don’t want to get hurt worse.”

 

“So long as you don’t say anything about my marriage. Same reasoning.”

 

Charlie nodded, smiling weakly. “So I can really stay for dinner?”

 

“Yeah. Sorry for whatever Cas is cooking, he likes to bring the exotic home. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t. I’ll drive you home later.”

 

“She could stay the night?” Samandriel suggested hopefully.

 

“Except that as far as anyone else is concerned, I’m home alone with my wife. We’re already trying to avoid being talked about.” Dean reminded him. Samandriel nodded, looking disappointed.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Maybe another time, Samandriel.”

 

“I know.”

 

Samandriel left the room, and Charlie watched him go. “What’s his deal?” She asked. Dean gave her a sad smile.

 

“He wants to spend more time with kids his age. When he first came here, Cas made it clear that we wouldn’t be able to give him a totally normal life, and he said he wanted to go where Cas was. So they decided Samandriel would act as his assistant until he was ready to go to college. He already graduated, but Cas figured being Jimmy Novak’s assistant would be a big help when it came to picking a school to go to. The downside is, he still doesn’t see kids his age. Not often, anyway.” He packed up the kit, and sat back on his heels. “I’d bring him to school with me, but Cas didn’t want to be separated from him at first, and now everyone knows who Samandriel is, he can’t go to your school.”

 

“Because he’d blow your cover.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Ms Talbot said she went out with Jimmy Novak.”

 

“I heard. Kind of hard for him to do that when he was home with me that night.”

 

Charlie nodded, and sat up slowly, wincing at the pain in her side. “Kind of hard when he’s openly gay too, huh?”

 

Dean helped her up.

 

“Mr Winchester? Thanks. For patching me up and the help and all.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only realised this morning that today is Thanksgiving (I'm British, it's not our celebration :/ ) so this chapter feels extra relevant! I hope all of you who are celebrating have a great holiday!

_Castiel hunched over his laptop, typing furiously, and ignoring Dean as he sat on the bed, watching TV and crunching on potato chips. Dean kept glancing at Castiel, watching as his boyfriend studied the screen, his fingers flying, his whole world narrowed down to the words that never seemed to stop moving across the monitor._

_He was dying to talk to Castiel, dying to just hold him, but he knew there was no chance of that. Too often he would walk in to Castiel glaring at the screen, or beginning conversations with odd questions like “Dean, if you were in the Soviet Union in the eighteenth century, do you think you’d have the capability to either instigate or participate in a protest?” which was, quite frankly, something Dean had never considered before. This total focus was rare, and treasured, and Dean had mistakenly interrupted it once. If there was ever a time Castiel looked like he was going to break up with him, or straight up murder him, it was then._

_So Dean was instead choosing to kick back with some junk food and a marathon of The X-files, and enjoying the profile of his gorgeous boyfriend without the venomous glare, at least until the fourth episode in a row, when Castiel turned around, and blinked in surprise._

_“You’re home already?”_

_Dean grinned goofily. He loved when Castiel slipped and referred to his single as their home. It was like he forgot that Dean technically shared a room with Ash._

_“Been back hours, babe. What’s today’s word count?”_

_Castiel shrugged._

_“Maybe five hundred? I’m stuck on a word though. I want to say something was beneficial but I’ve used four variations of that in the last three chapters alone.”_

_Castiel frowned at the screen as thought it would suddenly reveal its magic alternative, and then he started highlighting. Dean waited patiently for whatever new thought had struck the scrawny man by the computer._

_“Oh. I did about fifty-four hundred words. When did that happen?”_

_Dean smirked as Castiel scratched his head, still starting at the screen._

_“Marry me.”_

_The words tumbled out of Dean’s mouth before he even knew what he was saying. Castiel carried on with whatever he was doing on his laptop for a few moments, before he slowly turned back to Dean. They looked at each other, losing track of time as they dared each other to speak first. Dean had a moment of apprehension, that Castiel was willing him to retract his words._

_“I mean,” Dean had no idea what he meant, he had no idea that he was going to blurt that out. “We’re together nearly all the time, and I don’t want that to stop. I know we’ve only been together since September, but I know I don’t want anyone else. And you’ll be more comfortable about doing it when we finally do if we’re married. It seems like a good idea.”_

_Castiel carried on just looking at him._

_“Cas? Don’t you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”_

_Castiel looked back at the screen as though it would suddenly give him a clue what to do in this conversation. He slowly looked back at Dean, his eyes glazed with an almost haunted look._

_“If we get married, I can never go back to my family.” Dean had no idea what to say to that. So far as he could tell, that idea didn’t appeal to his boyfriend. “Do you have a ring for me?”_

_Castiel still seemed to be freaking out a little, but he forced a small smile on his face. Dean pulled off the ring he was given for his eighteenth birthday, knowing it probably wasn’t good enough, but he hoped it was a good enough gesture. Castiel’s smile wavered as Dean slid the ring on his finger._

_“I’m taking your last name,” he decided, sounding firmer than he appeared. “When do you want to do it?”_

_Dean was the one floundering slightly now._

_“Um, winter break? We’ll have to go to a state where it’s legal.”_

_“They just legalized in New York. Gabe will be flying back to the states around then, he could be a witness?”_

_Dean gave a shaky laugh, and pressed a kiss to Castiel’s forehead._

_“Is it okay that it’s not going to be some big affair?”_

_“It’s fine,” Castiel murmured quietly. “It’s not about the decorations, it’s about the fact we’ll be together.”_

 

 

“I’m thankful for how quickly you can recover after an orgasm,” Castiel whispered into the dark. Dean sniggered quietly, dragging his fingers along Castiel’s stomach.

 

“I’m thankful that you can always find my G-spot. Every damn time.”

 

Castiel kissed his collarbone.

 

“I’m thankful that you have no gag reflex.”

 

“I’m thankful you don’t either.”

 

“I’m thankful it’s one of the things we have in common.”

 

Castiel carried on kissing along his collarbone, and Dean dug his fingers into skin, catching at Castiel’s hips.

 

“I’m thankful that you seem to have unlimited amounts of energy.”

 

“I’m thankful that my dick’s bigger than yours.”

 

Castiel began moving down his body, and Dean closed his eyes.

 

“I’m thankful that you’re so good at sucking my dick.”

 

“Nice hint. I’m thankful that we mastered the art of the silent sex marathon so quickly.”

 

“I’m thankful you’re home.”

 

Castiel stopped kissing his stomach, and crawled back up the bed, looking at Dean with concern in his eyes. They stared at each other for a long time, the gloom having no effect on the way they read each other. And then Castiel cuddled close, nuzzling in to Dean’s shoulder, both of them trying to grasp hold of the way that their skin felt pressed close together.

 

“I love you.” Castiel whispered.

 

“I love you too.” Dean promised, pulling Castiel closer, despite him being on top already, completely naked, unable to get any closer. It didn’t stop Castiel from nuzzling as well.

 

“Do you still want me to give you oral sex?” Castiel muttered into his ear, his tongue and teeth grazing on the lobe. Dean’s eyes fluttered, and he ground his hips up, flexing them at the sound of Castiel’s voice. Castiel’s reaction was to thrust down, their penises rubbing together and making Dean groan. Someone pounded against a wall.

 

“Guys, its Thanksgiving! Go back to sleep!” Sam’s voice called through the wall. Dean began laughing, and Castiel resumed kissing down his chest, and his stomach, his fingers already on Dean, rubbing and caressing and teasing before his mouth could make contact. When he finally did, Dean grabbed a pillow and pressed it to his face with one hand, biting down on the fabric as the fingers on his other hand knotted into Castiel’s hair, attempting to control the progress that was going on at his groin. He wanted to melt into Castiel, to become one with him somehow, to never let go of the man he loved. His body reacted without him thinking, thrusting violently into Castiel’s mouth while his husband worked sheer magic with his tongue, and his lips, and-and … Dean almost blacked out as his body emptied, like it was pouring a part of his soul into Castiel. He lay back, panting heavily, as Castiel stayed between his legs, trailing a finger gently over every sensitive part of him.

 

“Fuck,” he whispered in the dark.

 

“There’s the reaction I was hoping for,” Castiel smirked. “Take it I’m topping?”

 

“Want me to turn over?” Dean whispered back. Their door opened.

 

“Guys, we get it. You’ve been apart for endless days or whatever. But please, keep your porking down. You’re not as quiet as you think you are.” Gabriel grouched, and slammed their door again. Castiel rested his head on Dean’s abdomen.

 

“I think he’s just annoyed about how in love we are.” Dean observed at full volume.

 

“Guess your brother doesn’t give it to him enough.”

 

“Good,” Dean pushed the pillow out of his way. “He shouldn’t violate my little brother at all.”

 

They heard the word ‘hypocrite’ drift through the dividing wall, and started laughing together.

 

_Castiel clung to Dean’s hand as they made their way out of the car, towards a small, nondescript building. Dean’s parents were already there, and they could see Gabriel approaching too. Castiel’s grip tightened with every footstep, and Dean tried not to react to the pain of Castiel’s fingernails._

_“Why on earth have we come to some city hall out in New York State?” John greeted Dean, holding Mary back so she couldn’t embrace her eldest son._

_“Probably because they legalized gay marriage out here,” Gabriel laughed, and stuck his hand out to Dean’s father. “Gabriel Allen. Castiel’s brother.”_

_John looked at Gabriel with undisguised contempt, and then turned to his eldest son._

_“Dean?”_

_“Look, I know it seems rushed, and you just met Cas at Thanksgiving but,” Dean tried to think of a good way to rationalize his snap decision to marry Castiel. He didn’t have to say anything more, however._

_“What kind of stupid are you?” John growled. “I told you no. You’ve known each other five minutes, you like girls, Dean.”_

_Dean stepped closer to Castiel. “I was all for just marrying Cas, and then telling you, but he made a good point about it destroying Mom if we tried. So you’re invited, but you don’t have to come in there with us.” He said belligerently._

_“You like girls.” John repeated. Dean shrugged._

_“Fine, I like girls. But I love Cas.”_

_“You barely know him!”_

_“I’d barely known him when I decided he wasn’t going to be a one night stand too. I’m sure about this, Dad.”_

_“I don’t think you’re prepared for what’s going to come at you for a reckless decision like this.”_

_Dean looked at his mother, who was watching her feet._

_“Mom? What do you think?”_

_Mary looked at John briefly, then at Gabriel, and finally, at Dean, who was practically standing in front of Castiel as though he had to protect him from his father._

_“Is this really the best decision, Dean?”_

_“Yeah, Mom. Cas is a big part of me.”_

_She stroked a hand down John’s arm._

_“We’ll be right back, okay honey?” She led John away, out of earshot. Gabriel leaned against the wall of the building, smirking at them._

_“I was kidding about the marriage thing.”_

_“We’re not,” Dean replied, stepping even closer to Castiel, who was watching Dean’s parents while chewing on the skin around his thumbnail._

_“They won’t agree to this,” Castiel muttered, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder._

_“Tough.”_

_“Dean, I want them to be happy for us.”_

_“Mom will be,” Dean said confidently, watching his parents as they stood close together, talking quickly. They shot quick glances in Dean and Castiel’s direction frequently, and Dean crossed his fingers as Castiel cuddled in to him. When Dean’s parents returned, he kissed the top of Castiel’s head reassuringly._

_“Okay.” John grunted, and walked into the city hall. Mary smiled, and hugged Dean and Castiel tightly._

_“Come on, let’s see you get married,” she stroked both their faces, and followed John into the building, Gabriel hot on her heels. Dean kissed Castiel’s head again, before nuzzling into his hair. Castiel straightened up, and adjusted the tie Dean was wearing, then kissed him gently on the mouth._

_“Let’s get married.”_

_*_

_John, Gabriel and Mary had watched the brief ceremony in silence. Despite there being so few witnesses, Dean’s hands still shook as he put the ring on Castiel’s finger. But Castiel had been confident, standing proudly and speaking clearly. After they were pronounced married, and Dean had pressed a firm kiss on his new husband, Mary told them that Gabriel would go in the pick up, and they could follow John’s route home, enjoying the privacy of the Impala._

_Castiel sat close beside Dean on the bench, the music on low as they followed John’s pick up._

_“I’m worried about your father,” Castiel admitted once they were over the state line and into Pennsylvania. “I know your mother would have convinced him to let us go through with the wedding, but I feel that he’s thinking of some kind of punishment for us.”_

_“Like what?” Dean asked. He wasn’t sure if Castiel was accurate, or if he was projecting his own father onto John._

_“I don’t know, Dean. Maybe you have to pay your way through college now. Maybe we’ll have to find our own place.”_

_“There are worse things.”_

_“Dean, I only just have enough to get myself through college. We should have thought about this more, we should have been more practical about it.”_

_“I’ll get a job, Cas. I’ll sell Baby, if I have to.”_

_Castiel looked around at the vast muscle car, and then back at Dean._

_“You should say that to your father, maybe then he’ll believe that you’re serious about me.”_

_Dean took a hand off the wheel to wrap his arm around Castiel, and they drove through the next few states in that position, discussing on and off what was waiting for them in Kansas. They pulled up beside the pick up truck when they finally arrived back at Mary and John’s house, and climbed out of the Impala before John had killed his engine._

_“So, I suppose you’re sharing a bed from now on,” John sounded strained as he climbed the steps beside Dean._

_“Have since we met. Did last time we were here.”_

_“Well, while you’re staying here, remember that your brother still lives in this house, try not to scar him with whatever you and Castiel do.”_

_“It’s mainly coursework, so,” Dean shrugged. John shot him an annoyed look._

_“You know what I mean, Dean. No funny business. Your mother is positive that Castiel’s a good influence on you, don’t ruin her perceptions.”_

_“Dean has decided on a career path once we graduate,” Castiel interrupted their conversation. “I’ve been made aware that it’s a recent development.”_

_John looked around at Castiel as though he wasn’t sure what to make of his new son-in-law._

_“Yeah? What’s he wanna do?”_

_“Become a teacher. I’m aware he was potentially going to join either your business, or your friend Bobby, but it was mainly because he hadn’t made a decision about what inspires him.”_

_“And suddenly he wants to be a teacher?” John snorted skeptically. Dean felt as though he was being ignored, even as Castiel took his hand cautiously._

_“Yes. He’s taught me many things in the past few months, without any effort. Things that I know he learned from you, like changing lightbulbs and fixing a leaking tap, and keeping the Impala working. He explains it in a way that makes sense.”_

_John frowned at Castiel, and then at Dean._

_“I’m not even going to touch it.” He lifted his hands, and walked away, calling over his shoulder, “No funny business around Sam!”_

_Dean looked at Castiel, who looked steadily back at him._

_“Your mother works miracles.” Castiel decided, and Dean grinned back at him, stepping closer to embrace his husband properly. “Do you think your father would be so squeamish about us if he knew that we were yet to procreate?”_

_“He’d freak out to learn you won’t even let me tongue kiss you yet,” Dean whispered. “Besides, isn’t procreating the one where one of you ends up pregnant?”_

_Castiel shrugged._

_“You’re the one with the active sexual history.”_

_“Touché.” He kissed Castiel’s temple. “But you know what? You can’t bring that up anymore. We’re married, we’re even from now on.”_

 

Thanksgiving was an all-hands-on-deck affair. Dean had forgotten what it was like to have a house full of people, let alone a kitchen full. Gabriel had taken control of dessert, crowding half the work surface with a bunch of pies and cakes, while Sam had insisted that they were definitely having vegetables with their turkey this year. Castiel was doing an excellent job of making it look like he was doing something important while doing absolutely nothing, and Samandriel was setting the table, washing up, and being everyone’s grunt. Dean had taken control of the turkey, and the stuffing, and kept calling Samandriel over to learn how to baste the bird properly.

 

And while they worked together, there was endless chatter.

 

“Sam, honey, no sprouts.”

 

“They’re an excellent source of iron and fiber!”

 

“You fooled me with kale, you’re not going to trick me with sprouts.”

 

“Aren’t sprouts a Christmas punishment? Like, sure, you’ve had your day of merriment and pretended to prefer giving over receiving, but you still have to eat Brussels sprouts.”

 

“We’re having sprouts. You can congratulate yourselves on the torture by glutting on Gabe’s chocolate pie.”

 

“Not as good as Mom’s was.”

 

“Dean, serious question, if your mom’s pie had gotten in there before Cas, would you have married that instead?”

 

“Gabe, you’re so crass.”

 

“Think of Samandriel, please.”

 

“What? I said marry, not screw the pie. I saw that movie. And let me tell you, it most definitely doesn’t feel like an apple pie.”

 

Dean refocused on basting the turkey again, listening to Castiel’s splutters of indignation.

 

“Maybe you should have fooled around with a girl though, Cassie, because I gotta say, that sex scene in your last book,” Gabriel whistled. “Full of clichés. I couldn’t take it seriously.”

 

“He read it out to the guys at work on break. Changing her name to Dean’s and making out it was guy-on-guy.” Sam spoke up from his steamer pots. Dean looked around from the turkey, and earned a pointed look from Gabriel.

 

“It’s not like anyone knows your name, Dean. Or that any of your school knows anyone I work with. For all they knew, I pulled the name out my ass.”

 

Dean looked at Castiel, and knew they were thinking the same thing. That it wasn’t so much about their privacy for once, they were both nauseated by the fact that Gabriel had commented on their sex life. Even though it wasn’t the first time, it made their morning tryst seem less important, somehow. Luckily, Sam broke the tension, smacking Gabriel on the back of the head.

 

“That’s the only thing going near your ass, honey. At least until you push my brother enough that he rams the baster up there.”

 

“What did the baster ever do?” Samandriel stuck in, thankfully breaking the simmering tension. Castiel laughed, and clapped Samandriel on the shoulder, hugging him close.

 

“I’d enjoy the baster, especially from Dean.” Gabriel raised and lowered his eyebrows quickly, smirking. “If it goes anything like what he and Cas were up to this morning.”

 

“You heard nothing,” Castiel announced.

 

“Thin walls.”

 

“We were whispering. And you’d know all about the thin walls, wouldn’t you, Gabriel?”

 

 

_Dean and Castiel were sitting side by side at the table in the kitchen, eating breakfast. Castiel had made a beeline for a bowl of muesli, and Dean felt like he had to follow suit, just a little. He forwent the bacon and eggs he was craving, and had cereal too. Lucky Charms._

_They were silent as they ate, and although they sat close together, they weren’t touching. They were moving in unison, raising their spoons to their mouths at the same time, drinking from their glasses of apple juice together, and just enjoying the relative quiet of the house._

_Dean was thinking as he ate, about how well his parents had taken to the idea of Castiel being their son-in-law. His father didn’t seem to know how to react, choosing to just hold his hands up and walk away whenever he saw them together. Mary had been making painstaking efforts to get to know Castiel, which had resulted in a more detailed backstory than Dean had been given, about how his father had controlled so many aspects of his, and his siblings, lives. How they lived in a community of like-minded people who raised their children to eventually marry and continue with their beliefs. How Castiel had been afraid of his father, and even some of his older siblings, but had far too many questions to ever be content with the future laid out for him._

_Dean had made a promise to himself, very early on, that he would always go at Castiel’s pace with their relationship. Hearing the conversation between his mother and husband only hardened his resolve to do just that. Even if it had been his idea to get married. He’d been trying to reassure Castiel that he was committed; that he was a safety net, and that his feelings were genuine. Castiel had jumped at the chance, so he must have known what Dean was trying to communicate._

_John stomped into the kitchen just as they scraped their bowls in unison, and stood across the table from them, fists resting on the tables. Dean took one look at his father’s face and realized that somehow, he was in big trouble. Maybe it had been too easy, marrying Castiel._

_“What did I say to you, Dean?” he greeted them. Dean frowned, trying to understand what John could be referring to. “About you and your,” he looked pained, just for a moment. “Husband.”_

_Dean wasn’t sure John had said anything. Maybe that was the point, and he was about to let loose now._

_“Nothing.”_

_“I told you,” John’s voice had an edge to it, a warning for Dean to stop being such a smart-ass. “No funny business, not around Sam.”_

_Dean frowned, and looked at the table top. He knew what his father meant by ‘funny business’, even if Castiel didn’t. It baffled Dean as to why John was bringing it up, however. Clearly, they were being accused of something. But what? Cuddling too hard over night? Sitting near each other in the kitchen?_

_“Wha-”_

_“You kept your mother up with the sound of bedsprings. She knows exactly what that sounds like, what you were up to. If we could hear it, Sam could hear it.”_

_Dean had no idea what to do in the situation. Castiel would not want to lie, but if Dean admitted that there was no chance it was them, would he be blowing Sam’s cover with Jessica? Had Sam kicked Gabriel out of his bedroom, when Mary had insisted Gabe take the airbed in there?_

_“I know you’re newly married, I know I’m not supposed to refer to this as a phase, or tell you what to do anymore,” John was picking his words carefully through his anger, and Dean had an idea of just what his mother had been saying outside of the wedding venue. “You have to make your own mistakes, fine. But not under my roof. Don’t sneak him over to Bobby’s, either. When you get back to college, you can do whatever you want, but until then, you respect my rules.”_

_John didn’t wait to get affirmation from Dean or Castiel before he left the kitchen._

_“Was your father indicating that we might have had intercourse last night?” Castiel asked quietly._

_“Pretty much. It was probably Sam, he probably snuck Jess in.”_

_Castiel stacked their bowls together, and took them over to the dishwasher._

_“Is that why you didn’t tell him that it wasn’t us? For your brother?” Castiel had his back to Dean as he spoke, placing the spoons and cereal bowls in the dishwasher as quietly as possible._

_“Yeah. I mean, they’ve been together for a few years, Sammy won’t do anything stupid, but I guess my parents worry about him more.”_

_“Because of your previous sexual experience?”_

_Dean rubbed a hand over his face instead of answering. He wanted Castiel to let that go, but he knew he wouldn’t. It was probably something that he worried about constantly, being enough for Dean._

_“You know,” he said eventually. “It’s no one else’s business, what we do. Or don’t do. So who cares if Dad thought it was us? So long as we understand each other.”_

_Castiel looked back at him, his expression guarded. Dean hated that he was being shut out of whatever Castiel was thinking, but he knew better than to press his husband. He started walking out of the door, knowing Castiel was following him, and led the way through the yard towards the Bug where they’d had their first kiss. They climbed onto the hood, and Castiel took Dean’s hand silently._

_“They expect it from me, you know? But Sammy, he’s smart. He’s a good kid, but he’s going to get curious with Jess. They’re just disappointed with me, they would go nuclear on him.”_

_Castiel stroked a thumb across the back of his hand gently._

_“I can accept that, but it hurts that they would believe the same about me. That I don’t respect their rules, that I have no backbone to stand up to you. That they would believe I was like any of my other siblings. I was hoping that my in-laws would at least respect the person I was.”_

_Dean squeezed his fingers tightly._

_“Mom gets it, I know she does.”_

_Castiel looked straight ahead, at the flatbed truck that was perched upon blocks, and Dean watched him, wishing that somehow, he could remove the entire situation from Castiel’s shoulders. He was just resolving to kick Sam’s ass when Sam swaggered over, Gabriel close behind him. They slid onto the edge of the flatbed, Gabriel’s legs dangling as Sam trailed his feet in the dirt._

_“Told you we’d find them out here. At Thanksgiving, they were glued to the Bug.” Sam announced to Gabriel. Castiel squeezed Dean’s fingers briefly, looking down at his knees._

_“Jess didn’t stick around, huh?”_

_Sam furrowed his brows at Dean’s snarky tone._

_“Jess?”_

_“Your girlfriend?” Dean reminded him. “Unless you were screwing someone else last night.”_

_Sam’s smile became more of a grimace, and it dawned on him that Sam had been sleeping with someone else the night before. He could feel himself getting even angrier at the entire situation._

_“You know, Dad was chewing us out for that? For whoever you were boning. And you,” Dean turned to Gabriel, who was looking between Sam and Dean with a smirk on his face. He raised an eyebrow at Dean. “You were sharing a room with him. Why the hell did you let him do it?”_

_Castiel raised his head as Gabriel winked._

_“He started it.”_

_Dean didn’t quite understand what Gabriel meant. But he was soon caught up._

_“See, Sammy was saying that he didn’t understand your one-eighty, how you could suddenly be all up in my brother, how you’ve stopped being all hump ‘em and dump ‘em just because of Cassie. And we got talking, trying to work it out, and then one thing led to another, and-”_

_Dean made to get off the Bug, as he made the connection, but Castiel held his hand firmly, keeping him away from Gabriel._

_“You did WHAT?!” Dean raged._

_“Because it’s okay for you?” Sam stuck in. “Because you can sleep with whoever you want, whenever you want? Because you can suddenly decide you like guys? But the moment I try and experiment, see what’s out there, it’s a no?”_

_“HE’S MY BROTHER-IN-LAW!” Dean yelled, still fighting Castiel’s grasp to get at Gabriel, to claw that smug look off his face. “YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! I just covered for you with Mom and Dad, so you could cheat on Jess? Did you tell him about her? Huh?”_

_Castiel gripped onto his arm with his other hand, and Dean knew he was winning their struggle. He felt himself tug Castiel down the hood of the Bug slightly as he stepped closer to Gabriel._

_“Dean, shut up, Bobby’s outside,” Sam muttered, looking past Castiel at the nearby house. “If he hears you-”_

_“Good! Good if he hears me!”_

_“Dean, please calm down,” Castiel said quietly. “I know you’re angry and upset, but this really won’t help anyone.” He looked at Gabriel. “Please, find somewhere else to be right now, Gabe. And Sam, I think it would help if you left too, but maybe not the same place as my brother?”_

_Dean looked at Castiel furiously, but Castiel was avoiding eye contact. He looked back at the flatbed, but both their brothers had left, heeding Castiel’s advice. Dean aimed a kick at the truck._

_“Anger isn’t going to help the situation right now, Dean,” Castiel began._

_“I should tell them! I should march back into that house and sell them out to Mom and Dad. At least then they’ll know that I’m not a creep and you’re not that guy-”_

_“Dean, until you came along, Gabriel was all I had,” Castiel was still talking quietly. “I know he’s far from perfect, and makes some truly terrible decisions, but essentially he’s a good guy. If you tell your parents, it’ll hurt your brother, and it’ll hurt me too. If you hurt my brother physically, you’ll regret it. And I don’t want you to regret it.”_

_Dean glared at him._

_“What is it with you? You’re insulted that my parent’s think that we’re sleeping together, but you find out your brother took advantage of mine and everything’s hunky-dory?”_

_Castiel looked back at him benignly, still not letting go of him._

_“I have no problem with them believing we would have a physical relationship, my problem is that they believe we would go against their wishes. They’ve asked us to respect their boundaries. I don’t like the notion that they think we can’t. And you heard Gabriel: he didn’t take advantage. They agreed to do whatever it is that they did, the same way you’re agreeing to respect me. I don’t like the idea that they did … whatever it was that they did, any more than you do. But Dean, you yelling at them and banning Sam from Gabriel will only encourage them.”_

_Dean continued glaring at him, and Castiel looked back steadily, stepping closer and placing his hand carefully on Dean’s hipbone._

_“I know it’s frustrating, but I also know I’m right. Gabriel always acted out when our father banned him from anything. Please don’t make me think I married my father.”_

_Dean was speechless at Castiel’s words already, but then the dark-haired man pressed even closer, bestowing a gentle kiss on his mouth. He could feel himself begin to calm down as he kissed back, even before Castiel tried to slip his tongue between his pursed lips. He paused, just for a second, and then finally, finally kissed Castiel the way he’d been wanting to for months, their tongues gliding against each other, licking into each other’s mouths, Dean’s arms closing around Castiel’s thin body as he pulled him closer. Castiel didn’t even seem that inexperienced, or else he was a very fast learner. Or else they just fitted together well, the way they had since they met those few short months before._

_Dean didn’t push for anything more, and eventually they broke off the kiss. He leaned his forehead against Castiel’s._

_“Thank you,” Castiel breathed, snuggling closer to him, covering his chin in tiny kisses._

_“I’m still mad,” Dean promised him._

_“I know.”_

_*_

_Somehow, Castiel had managed to calm Dean down completely after the morning’s revelations, and they spent most of the day in their own little bubble, sitting on the Bug and talking, kissing occasionally, and most importantly of all, keeping away from Gabriel. Dean supposed that he wasn’t entirely trusted to keep from rearranging his brother-in-law’s face over what had developed._

_They had gone to bed early, telling Dean’s parents that they wanted to watch a movie together Dean knew his parents doubted their intentions but he also knew that, just because Castiel had kissed him properly earlier that afternoon, there was no chance he was ready for anything more. They laid together on top of the covers on Dean’s bed, cuddling close and watching the Back to the Future trilogy on the TV, focusing on the screen as they watched Michael J Fox jump back and forth through time._

_Their happy bubble broke when Dean’s bedroom door crashed open, and John stormed in, glaring at the bed. His face was mottled red, and his gaze took a moment to focus on the scene in front of him. Dean in jeans and a shirt, Castiel in a sweater and slacks, both of them propped up by the headboard as they kept their arms around each other. With the door open, Dean could hear what had grabbed John’s attention, and made him come bursting in the room. There was the muted sound of bedsprings working hard, and the rhythmic slap of a headboard against a wall._

_“You’re … you’re …” John spluttered, unable to formulate a thought._

_“About to see Marty McFly go to his future home and see older him,” Castiel murmured, not aware of the problem that was developing. “Dean assured me that I would enjoy these movies.”_

_John wasn’t paying attention to Castiel’s words, and Dean was stuck in indecision. How was he meant to save Sam from what was coming? He knew he should, as the older brother and because he didn’t want to disappoint Castiel. But John was no idiot, and Dean couldn’t think of a good cover._

_“Is that Sam?” He breathed. Dean closed his eyes, and hoped for the best._

_“Uh, I don’t know. Is Jess over?”_

_He opened his eyes, but John had already left the room, crossing the hall to Sam’s room and wrenching the door open. Dean pushed Castiel aside and rushed over, not sure what he would achieve but knowing that his father couldn’t kill his brother. He stopped with one foot still raised as he took in the scene in Sam’s room, which had also stopped John from pushing further._

_Sam was completely naked, and laid out on the double bed that Mary had insisted he needed two years before when Sam hit six feet. Dean was grateful that at least he couldn’t see every inch of his brother’s anatomy, because Gabriel’s head was covering the worst of it. Sam was staring at his father, his face slack with fear, and Gabriel wasn’t moving, though it was obvious to Dean what had been happening moments before. He could sense when Castiel joined them, even before he slipped a reassuring hand in to Dean’s. They all seemed to be waiting for John’s reaction to the scene. He turned slowly to face Dean._

_“Are you satisfied?” He breathed. Dean blinked back at him._

_“I don’t-”_

_“You know Sammy tries to be like you. Of course it was only a matter of time before he would try to be gay too. This is your fault. Sammy, put some clothes on.”_

_John walked away, leaving Dean standing in the doorway, feeling like crap. Castiel reached across and shut the door gently, and led Dean back into his childhood room, where he held him gently, leaving some distance in case he got it wrong. Dean felt numb after his father’s accusations. He knew that John hadn’t even started laying into any of them, that he had merely gone to relay to Mary what was going on._

_“It’ll be okay, Dean. I promise, it’ll be fine. No matter what, you’ve got me.”_

_Dean heard the words, and the soft tone of Castiel’s deep voice. He felt Castiel’s fingertips scratching through the short bristles of his hair, but none of it could penetrate the numbness._

_“We’re always going to have to deal with this kind of thing, aren’t we? The people who don’t understand that we could care about each other, who think its something different to what it is.”_

_“Yeah, we are,” Castiel replied sadly. “But you’re worth it, Dean. I’ve known that since we met. Since you stopped trying to coerce me into sex and just took the time to get to know me. You’re a very special man.”_

_They heard John’s voice calling up the stairs at that moment, demanding that the four of them get down into the kitchen yesterday. Castiel caressed Dean’s cheeks slowly._

_“Dean? Don’t take what your father says personally. He’s struggling to understand, but that’s no reflection on you. Please don’t turn around and move the blame onto our brothers either. For all we know, they’re falling for each other too. And like I said earlier, pushing them apart will just make them come together more.” Castiel looked uneasy, as John repeated his demand loudly. “We’ll muddle through this the best way we can. And in a couple of days, it’ll blow over.”_

_Castiel let go of Dean, and opened his bedroom door, waiting for Dean to begin moving. He did so, his moves robotic, and Castiel caught up his hand again, squeezing it gently, just as Sam and Gabriel emerged from Sam’s room. Dean and Castiel both avoided eye contact with them as they went down the stairs and entered the kitchen._

All five men were sitting around the small kitchen table, along with Charlie, who Dean had invited at the last minute. She was watching, wide-eyed, as they passed dishes between themselves and bickered over the turkey legs, sassing each other on their culinary skills, and occasionally looking questioningly at Samandriel, who shrugged back with a smile on his face. Eventually, they got down to the actual food, and the conversation started to actually follow a pattern.

 

“So Sammy, how was your first big case?” Dean asked with a mouthful of mashed potato.

 

“Tough. Mentally draining. Not helped by Gabe being far too energetic about redecorating the house.” Sam speared a carrot, and shoved it into his mouth, whole.

 

“I’m sorry, you were the one ordering half of it, I thought you’d be glad it arrived.” Gabe snarked. “Cassie, how’s the book tour going?”

 

“Finished for this book, almost. I have a few European dates before Christmas, and then I’m home, starting on the next manuscript. Samandriel’s going to use the time to look for colleges.”

 

“And maybe spending time with some local kids?” Samandriel asked. Castiel shook his head silently, and Samandriel slumped in his seat. “Not even with Charlie?”

 

Charlie looked bewildered at being thrust to the forefront of conversation.

 

“Samandriel, we’ve been through this,” Dean said sadly. “There’ll be too many questions.”

 

“So be out already, you’ve been married for forever, Gabe told me.”

 

Dean and Castiel shared a look, and Dean pushed away from the table, leaving the room.

 

“I’ll go make sure he’s okay,” Castiel murmured, standing up himself.

 

“Castiel, I-” Samandriel started to protest, and Castiel shook his head.

 

“Leave it, Samandriel.”

 

He walked out of the house, knowing that Dean wouldn’t have stayed inside, and picked his way over the nearly empty yard to where the shell of a Volkswagen Bug sat, half-buried in the dirt. Dean was on the hood, staring out into space. Castiel stood nearby, and saw Bobby sitting outside his house, facing the other way.

 

“He’s seventeen.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I guess the kids in your classes really made an impression on him. Guess that’s why you won’t leave here, huh? Those kids?”

 

“Partly.”

 

“And your Mom and Dad?”

 

Dean carried on staring in the dirt, and Castiel sat next to him, regardless of who may walk past. They were only sitting, after all.

 

“Dean, it’s going to get easier. Somehow, it’ll get easier. And if you ever decide that you’re ready for people to know about us, I’m ready too.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“And in the mean time, we have a good long stretch coming up where I don’t leave you alone unless you’re at school. I have lots of plans for us.”

 

Dean gave a small chuckle.

 

“I love you, Cas.”

 

“Love you too.”


	10. Chapter 10

_Dean and Castiel paused outside the kitchen door, where they could hear Dean’s parents talking._

_“John, please remember that they’re both adults now-”_

_“Sammy’s barely eighteen!”_

_“But he is eighteen. And I don’t want to isolate him, John. He’s probably very confused right now.”_

_“Fine. But I still get to kick Dean’s ass.”_

_“No. John, if you would just talk to the boys, you might learn something.”_

_Dean wanted to walk away, but Castiel held his hand firmly, and pulled him into the kitchen, wordlessly leading him over to the seats closest to Mary. They sat close together, as Sam and Gabriel pushed through the door a few moments later, slouching in the remaining two chairs._

_“Okay,” Mary began calmly, shooting a warning look at John as she laid her hands gently on the table. “We need to set some ground rules, before this all gets out of hand. I’m not going to act like nothing has happened, but we’re not going to overreact either.” She shot another warning look at John. “Gabriel, Castiel, you’re still welcome here until college starts back up. But what just happened is unacceptable, so you will be sharing Dean’s room. Dean, you’ll be in with Sam.”_

_Dean’s reaction was to protest, but Castiel squeezed his hand as his mother shot him a pre-emptive warning glance._

_“The door rule stands. You can shut it when you’re changing, but otherwise, doors open.”_

_Dean shifted in his seat, earning another finger squeeze from Castiel._

_“Anything you want to add, John?” Mary asked pleasantly, cocking her head to the side slightly as she looked behind her sons at her husband._

_“I catch any of you fooling around, you’re out on your ass. I don’t care who it is.”_

_John left the room, and Mary looked down at her hands. Sam seemed to deflate in the seat beside Dean._

_Gabriel chuckled “Well, that could have gone worse.”_

_Dean watched as Mary looked at Gabriel, dumb-founded. He squeezed Castiel’s hand before speaking up._

_“You dodged a huge bullet, don’t gloat,” he said sharply, glaring at Gabriel before he looked down at Castiel’s fingers, woven between his. He was unable to keep his anger with Gabriel in check. “It’s your fault, all of this.”_

_He dropped Castiel’s hand and left the kitchen, no longer able to bear being in the same room as Gabriel. He started walking towards Bobby’s place, wanting some common sense from someone he could trust. He could feel someone following him, and turned around, expecting to see Castiel. Instead, Sam stopped at the same time, shifting his feet slightly._

_“Dean? Can we talk?”_

_Dean turned, and carried on walking to Bobby’s, hearing Sam’s sneakers kick through the dirt behind him. He reached Bobby’s front door and banged on the screen, stepping back and waiting for Bobby to appear. It took a long time, and when Bobby finally did open the front door, he glared at Dean through the screen._

_“Last I heard, John was going to tear you both a new one.”_

_“Yeah, well. Mom.” Dean shrugged, as though that was the only explanation he needed._

_“I’m not getting mixed up in your troubles, boy.” Bobby grunted, still not opening the screen. “Go home and face the music.”_

_Bobby shut the door firmly, and Dean groaned, resting his head against the doorframe._

_“What’s the big deal anyway, Dean?” Sam piped up from behind him._

_“Shut up.”_

_“Mom talked Dad out of totally kicking our asses. It’s fine.”_

_Dean moved away from the doorframe, and headed back to their house, Sam chattering away behind him._

_“Come on, Dean, you can’t be mad at me. Okay, so you can’t sleep in the same bed as Castiel, but I mean, that doesn’t matter, right? You still get to spend all the time with him that you want to, he’s still going to be here for Christmas.”_

_“He’s my husband, Sam,” Dean growled. “That might be a joke to you, but it means something to me, okay? I shouldn’t be punished because you say yes to whoever wants in your pants.”_

_“Do you even hear yourself? Dean, I’ve been punished every day of high school because you were such a slut. And yeah, we’re all impressed that Castiel lasted longer than twenty-four hours, but you know what? It’s about time you got a taste of what I’ve had to deal with.”_

_“You are so lucky we’re on probation or whatever it is right now, or I would kick your ass, Sammy.”_

_Dean wrenched open the kitchen door, and found Castiel and his mother sitting at the table, both clutching mugs of herbal tea and seeming much calmer than Dean felt._

_“Did you enjoy your walk?” Mary asked kindly._

_“Bobby wouldn’t let me in,” Dean grunted, and headed over to the cookie jar, as Sam stomped in behind him._

_“Where’s Gabe?” He asked eagerly, kissing his mother’s cheek on his way past._

_“Gabriel is gathering his things, now he’s moving into Dean’s room. Dean? Could you help move the airbed back into your room for him? Castiel and I were talking.”_

_Dean looked at Castiel, who returned his gaze with a warm expression before sipping from his mug of tea. Dean knew him well enough to know that he was saying it was fine, that he wanted the space to continue talking to Mary. Dean felt excluded from the two people he cared most about at that moment in time. He left the kitchen wordlessly, following Sam up the stairs and entering Sam’s room, handling the airbed himself as Sam wandered into Dean’s room, where he immediately began chattering to Gabriel._

_“So, this sucks, huh? Not getting to share anymore. I was enjoying it.”_

_“I bet you were, kiddo. But my brother pointed out that your Pop is pretty similar to ours in a lot of ways I’d rather not think about, so I’m going to play nice from here on out.” Gabriel smirked, and flopped back on Dean’s bed._

_“No, no, you’ve got the air bed. My bed’s saved for Cas.”_

_Gabriel snorted with suppressed laughter, and Dean glared at him._

_“Don’t test me.”_

_“Fine, fine. Only the best for my little brother, right?” Gabriel’s smirk was relentless._

_“Just don’t touch my stuff.”_

 

The day after Thanksgiving, Sam and Gabriel hung around, lying around the living room watching trash TV and eating leftover turkey. Samandriel had gone to Charlie’s house after pleading with Castiel to at least let him have one friend, pointing out that Charlie knew everything anyway. Castiel had already burrowed himself in his study with the warning that if anyone - even you, Dean - disturbed him, he would rip their balls off.

 

Dean was trying to do some lesson planning in the corner of the room, but it was hard over the noise from the television. Eventually, he gave up, and squeezed onto the love seat beside his brother, who was watching the television screen upside-down.

 

“So, Dean, are you moving to San Fran already?” Gabriel asked during a commercial break.

 

“We’re not moving.” Dean shrugged.

 

“You and Cassie really need to get on the same page. He went for a viewing in New York the other day. Remember him talking nonstop about that apartment on the Upper East Side?”

 

Gabriel started by talking to Dean, but his attention jumped to Sam halfway through. Dean felt his face grow hot, as he imagined Castiel going behind his back, looking at apartments without him. He never even mentioned it on their phone calls.

 

“That one with the sunken bath and the walk-in wardrobe? I’m surprised he didn’t leave Dean for it.”

 

Dean closed his eyes, trying not to feel wound up.

 

“Seriously, Dean. One day, you’re going to have to move out, leave this place behind. Cas thinks it’s not good for you, you know? Not just you and him. You. He said how your school is full of assholes and you don’t have any friends, and we all know you’re clinging to Mom and Dad. They didn’t leave their house to you for you to become trapped by it.”

 

Dean swallowed hard, as though that would stop him from getting upset by Sam’s breezy way of talking. He pulled himself off the seat as the next episode of some crazy baking show started up, and headed for Castiel’s study regardless of the threats.

 

Castiel was scribbling on a stack of post-it notes, and thumbing each one onto a corkboard as he churned through the stack of little yellow papers. Dean recognized the signs of the beginning of a story. He took a seat at the desk and watched as Castiel bent over his project on the floor, consumed by his idea.

 

“I’m fond of your balls.” Cas spoke after a few minutes of absolute silence.

 

“Hopefully when you go to rip them off, you’ll remember that and just play with them instead.”

 

Castiel scribbled on another post-it, and stuck it under a small cluster on the board.

 

“Sam and Gabe get too much for you? Gabe just found this show a few weeks ago, Ultimate Cake Off. He’s obsessed. Drove Samandriel crazy when we were out that way.”

 

“They brought up Mom and Dad.”

 

Castiel exhaled, and tapped his pile of post-its absent-mindedly.

 

“Want to talk about it?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Want to talk about how hard a world-build is for a fantasy novel? Henriksen gave me a challenge to do fantasy, and he’s going to take a stab at crime fiction.”

 

“Want to tell me about the apartment you looked at?”

 

That caught Castiel’s attention. He sat up properly, rocking back on his heels and looking at Dean seriously.

 

“Which one?”

 

“Castiel-”

 

“Look, I love this place, of course I do. It’s the place I got a lot of my firsts. But Dean, I can’t be here any more. I’m sorry, I can’t. I can’t keep crashing my way through word counts at three in the morning just to hit novel length so I can go on promo tours. I can’t keep waiting until everyone’s at school or work to leave the house. I want something close to normal. I want to be with you, actually be with you.” He shuffled over to the desk chair, and held onto the two arms, effectively restraining Dean. “I wish you would trust me on this.”

 

“I trust you, Cas.”

 

Castiel just looked at him, one of those searing gazes that cut straight through his soul. The one that made him feel completely naked, while reminding him that they understood each other completely.

 

“If there was some way of taking them with us, Dean, would you consider it?”

 

Dean shrugged uneasily. Take them how? They’d been cremated and then buried. All that was left of Dean’s parents was the house. Castiel leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

 

“There’s a lot more Mary’s in the world than there are John’s, these days. And I swear, if we moved to New York, you’d be the favorite teacher because you’re the hot, gay one who’s married to a literary superstar.”

 

“Literary superstar? You’re quoting magazine articles now?” Dean attempted some dry humor, but he could tell Castiel wasn’t fooled.

 

“Okay, since this is the weekend when we’re all supposed to be thankful for stuff, do you want to go visit them?”

 

Dean looked down, unable to answer the question. Castiel made the decision for him, slotting their hands together and pulling him from the seat. They separated at the front door, walking independently to the Impala, Castiel defaulting to the passenger side without even asking. Once inside, Dean turned to look at him, his inner turmoil evident on his face.

 

“What if someone sees us?”

 

“Then someone sees us. I’ll sort it out some other time. Right now, you need this more, okay?”

 

Dean nodded, and started the engine up, pulling out of the driveway and heading across town to the cemetery.

 

_Dean took Castiel’s hand as they left the Impala, looking up at Dean’s parent’s house as they approached._

_“I cannot believe you got them to agree to have me here all summer.”_

_“Kind of helps that I only talked to Mom. And besides, you’re my husband, where I go you go, where you go I go.”_

_“Except Creative Writing class.” Castiel deadpanned. The sense of humor had been a recent development, one that Dean was fully embracing. It had come from Castiel actually reaching out to some of the other people on his course, developing other friendships. They stepped into the house, and immediately ran into John._

_“So, Castiel’s back?” John grunted at Dean._

_“Yeah, of course.”_

_John’s cheeks reddened._

_“And I suppose Gabriel’s somewhere nearby?”_

_“I think he’s exploring Tanzania at the moment.” Castiel said quietly. “He’s not in America that often.”_

_John looked as though he wasn’t sure whether or not to be happy about that news. He instead took the easy route and walked away from them, calling over his shoulder at them. “Rules still stand. Dean, you’re in with Sam.”_

_Castiel waited until he was out of earshot, before turning to Dean, squeezing his hand tightly._

_“It’ll be okay, Dean.”_

_“A whole summer, laying in bed without you?”_

_“Dean, you’ll be asleep.”_

_“Not without you, I won’t.”_

_Castiel smiled sadly, and wrapped his arms around his husband._

_“Dean, it’s just for the summer. And then we’ll move into that place with Ash and Chuck and no one will care that we share a bed together every night. We can last out three months. And I’m kind of looking forward to being able to stretch out on your bed.”_

_Dean didn’t return Castiel’s smile._

_“I’ll talk to Mom. She can’t let Dad keep us apart like this.”_

_Castiel didn’t argue, but let Dean leave their embrace, and followed him through the house as he looked for Mary. She was nowhere to be seen downstairs, and when they walked up to the next level, Sam slipped out of his bedroom._

_“Hey Dean, hey Cas. Um, good to see you again.”_

_“You too, Sam,” Castiel answered while Dean blustered over to his parents bedroom, looking in there for Mary._

_“Is um, did Gabriel come as well?”_

_Sam was unable to hide his excitement over the prospect of seeing Gabriel again, and Castiel was cautious as he answered._

_“No, he’s abroad right now. I probably won’t see him again until Christmas.”_

_“Oh,” Sam looked disappointed, and peered at his phone. “Does he ever mention me?”_

_Dean came stomping back along the hallway, thrusting his arm into the crook of Castiel’s elbow and dragging him along._

_“She must be in the back yard, come on.”_

_Castiel waved at Sam quickly, before turning around so he could walk down the stairs, grabbing up Dean’s hand as they continued looking for Dean’s mother._

 

The cemetery was empty as Dean walked through the headstones, Castiel not far behind him. He reached the small plaque that marked where John and Mary now lay, and sat down on the ground, his hands on his knees. Castiel didn’t come any further than a few headstones away, close enough for support but far away enough to give Dean the time he needed.

 

Dean didn’t speak, but studied the small plaque, reading the inscription over and over. As he looked, he tried to think of just what he would want them to know. He thought of the school, and how good his classes were, but how much he disliked the other members of staff and having to play nice to them. How much he still loved Castiel, but how worried he was that something was coming between them that could drive them apart. How he didn’t want that, the way he hadn’t wanted to do that to his mother and father in the first place.

 

He wished his mother were there, really there, to come up with some miracle solution. But then Dean knew just as well as Castiel did, as their brothers did, that if Mary and John were still alive that Dean and Castiel would have had their own house. In a different state, the way they had been building towards. They would see come back to Kansas for the holidays, and maybe Dean would be more comfortable with people knowing about his relationship.

 

He turned and looked at Castiel, who was gazing around the cemetery, his hair lifting in the slight wind as he snuggled into his scarf, and Dean felt a pang in his chest just at the sight of him. He was so far removed from the guy he’d tried to pick up in the bar, but was still so calm, so peaceful. Dean was always going to want to gravitate towards him.

 

Eventually, he looked around at Dean, cocking his head to the side in a quirk that Dean knew was his way of asking a silent question. _Do you want to go now?_ Dean nodded, and stood up, brushing the dirt from his knees.

 

Back in the Impala, Castiel took the wheel, and Dean sat beside him on the bench, watching as they drove back through town, the atmosphere in the car close.

 

“Dean? Are you okay?” Castiel asked softly. He laid a hand cautiously on his husband’s.

 

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice was distant, and he knew Castiel could hear the lie.

 

“Do you still blame yourself?”

 

“I guess.” Dean shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going.

 

“For the accident? Or what happened before?”

 

“Can we not talk about this?”

 

“We never talk about this,” Castiel pointed out. “And maybe if you did, you’d feel better, you could move on. You know, Sam and Gabe never feel like they caused it.”

 

Dean made sure not to look at Castiel.

 

“Yeah well, they wouldn’t have met if it wasn’t for us. And it was you and me who started driving them apart.”

 

“It’s not like it was intentional. They were two very different people, and love could only keep them together so long. I guess we just found the one place they couldn’t compromise.”

 

Dean tried to fight the tears that prickled at his eyes, sniffing as though that could keep them at bay. Castiel pulled the car over, and reached across to hold him.

 

“Dean, trust me, it wasn’t our fault. It wasn’t. And look, if it was really such a problem that we were together, then why would your father have been there for our wedding? Why would he have agreed to it even happening? Deep down, he must have been okay with it.”

 

Dean didn’t answer, but he also didn’t resist Castiel’s embrace. For once, he didn’t bother to worry about possible spectators, but curled up into Castiel’s arms, hoping the hug would somehow alleviate the feelings he was still trying to ignore.

 

“I’m so glad I’m not leaving you for a month.” Castiel muttered into his shoulder, still stroking his arm.


	11. Chapter 11

“And then what happened?” Lisa giggled, sitting on the desk and nibbling on a cookie as Bela held court. Dean was once again at his desk, grading papers online and trying to pretend their voices didn’t drill into his skull.

 

“He came back to mine. And you know, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes at his computer screen. They had already been gossiping for twenty minutes about Thanksgiving, and Bela’s supposed long weekend with Jimmy Novak. It was hard to tell if it was more irritating that they always had to gossip near Dean, or that Bela kept claiming that Jimmy would pay her any attention whatsoever, or that she could make it sound like the entire holiday was about sex when the reality was that he’d had a pretty black Black Friday.

 

Castiel had let him cry it out in the car, then driven them back home. But instead of going back into the house, they’d walked over to Bobby’s, where the old coot had poured them a tumbler each of some homemade hooch and entertained Castiel’s request for stories of Dean’s parents. The next day, Castiel had insisted that they spend the day in bed, just watching trash TV, texting Samandriel occasionally to bring them snacks.

 

It hadn’t passed Dean by that Castiel had dropped the book planning just to take care of him, and he felt on edge as a result. It had been nice to spend time together, but Dean hated that it was under those circumstances. He hated feeling like he was getting in Castiel’s way with his grief, even as Castiel took charge and concentrated on him.

 

He was staring at the essay on the screen, the words not going in as he wondered how he was going to make it up to Castiel. He knew that his time at the school was going to help, giving Castiel the space he needed to create, but he wanted to do more.

 

“Oh my God, Bela, you’re so bad!” Pamela shrieked, and Dean forced himself not to moan in frustration. He was glad he missed whatever lie Bela had just told. “Dean, are you hearing this?”

 

He looked up at them for a moment, grunted, and then returned his gaze to the screen.

 

“I take it you and your Cas didn’t have a great Thanksgiving then?” Lisa stuck in.

 

“It was Thanksgiving.”

 

“Yeah, like you’re going to get anything out of Dean. He wants that whole man of mystery thing.” Pamela smirked.

 

“No, I want these papers graded before the kids whine that I gave them a deadline and can’t be bothered to stick to one too. Don’t you ever get that kind of crap from them?”

 

“I do. But then I get home and open a bottle of wine,” Bela smirked. “Block the sounds of their complaints with vino.”

 

They all giggled again, and Dean tried to go back to his work.

 

“Come on, Dean. What did you and Cas do?” Lisa carried on prying.

 

“Ate dinner with family, just like everyone else.”

 

“See?” Pamela gestured to him. “Man of mystery.”

 

“And that’s so not how my Thanksgiving went,” Bela preened. “Jimmy is very talented.”

 

Dean wanted to tell her how much he knew that.

 

_Dean waited until all the lights were turned out, and he could hear his father snoring in the next room. He eased the door to Sam’s room open, and padded slowly across the darkened landing to his own room, climbing in next to Castiel and sliding his arms around his husband’s waist._

_“What are you doing?” Castiel whispered. “Dean, we could get into so much trouble.”_

_“I can’t sleep. Sam’s spread across his whole bed, he kept kicking at me. And I like breathing you in as I sleep.”_

_“I like feeling you wrapped around me too. But you heard your parents, we shouldn’t be doing this.”_

_“We’re married, we shouldn’t be kept apart. If they get to share a bed still, we get to share a bed still.”_

_“I don’t think that’s how it works. This is their house.”_

_“Then kick me out of bed.”_

_Castiel rubbed a hand over Dean’s chest, then reached up and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek._

_“I really should. But I miss you at night too.”_

_“We’ll leave the door open, okay? And my dad sleeps late, I’ll sneak out before he gets up. Mom’ll be okay, I know she will.”_

_Dean knew that Castiel was pressing his lips together. He also knew that he was worried about doing anything wrong._

_“Look, even if they find us in bed together, if I’m awake, they’re not going to know when I got here.”_

_“They’re not stupid.”_

_“I’m not leaving.”_

_Castiel sighed, but Dean knew that he was grateful Dean was putting his foot down._

_*_

_Dean was shaken roughly, and his eyes snapped open. Castiel was still curled up in his arms, and there was hair tickling his shoulder. He turned his head, and saw his mother leaning over him, scowling. It wasn’t a look he was used to seeing on her face. She pointed wordlessly to the door, and Dean nodded, easing his way away from Castiel and out of the bed. He followed her down the stairs, and onto the front porch, where she sat on the steps and stared out at the tree border past their driveway. Dean sat beside her cautiously, apprehensive about what was going to happen._

_“Why were you in bed with Castiel?”_

_She was quiet, her voice giving nothing away. Dean decided to answer with the truth, hoping that it would help his mother stop this strange behavior._

_“I couldn’t sleep in Sam’s room. I don’t sleep without Cas.”_

_“Your father told you that you had to share with Sam.”_

_“Mom, come on. We got married-”_

_“And I persuaded your father to go along with that. I can see you and Castiel care for each other Dean, I know you’re trying to be an adult here. But there is still the issue of what happened last time Castiel was here with his brother.”_

_Dean balled his hands into fists, feeling frustrated._

_“We’re not Sam and Gabe.”_

_“I understand that, but what you and Cas did influenced what happened with your brother.”_

_Dean was nonplussed._

_“Wait, us getting married somehow led to Gabriel thinking he could fool around with Sammy?”_

_“Don’t play the idiot, Dean. You know what I mean.”_

_“I really don’t.”_

_She turned to look at him, her expression saddened. She placed her hands together and wedged them between her knees._

_“I understand that you’d want to consummate your marriage, but not under our roof. Those are your father’s rules.”_

_“Cas and I aren’t…” Dean took in a deep breath. Castiel possibly wouldn’t appreciate it if Dean revealed he was still a virgin. “Fine, we won’t have sex. No worries. But can you please both just chill on us sharing a bed? Like I said, I sleep better with him there.”_

_Mary returned her gaze to the tree line, and slumped her shoulders._

_“Dean, you’re asking for an awful lot right now. I’ve worked hard to convince your father that this relationship is legitimate, that Castiel’s a nice boy. I’ve compromised a lot to get you what you want. But I can’t keep taking the brunt of John’s reaction to your choices. We’re still supporting you through college, we’re still welcoming Castiel into the family. I don’t think it’s so hard for you to do some compromising and agree to the sleeping arrangements while you stay here over the summer.”_

_“Mom-”_

_“I’m serious, Dean. If you want to sleep with Castiel, you either wait until you go back to college, or you find somewhere else to be over the summer. I was looking forward to a few months with my whole family – Castiel included - but if a few hours of separation from him sends you away,” she shrugged to complete her sentence. They sat together for a few moments in silence, before Mary stood up, and walked back up the porch steps. “I’m going to make coffee. Maybe you should sit there and think about your priorities.”_

_She slipped back through the front door, and Dean climbed off the porch, picking his way through the scrap cars in the yard. Bobby was out in his yard, working on an old junker, and he waved Dean over when he saw him._

_“Hey Bobby.”_

_“Back for the summer?”_

_“Yeah. What’s up with this one?”_

_“Won’t start. You gonna help?”_

_Dean nodded, grateful for the distraction. Bobby passed him a flashlight and made him shine it at the engine as he bent over to work on it._

__

_“So, John tells me you married that dark-haired boy you keep bringing over.”_

_“Yeah. He’s called Cas.”_

_“Why in the hell did you get married to him?”_

_“Because I fell in love, Bobby.”_

_“Fell in … well, okay Princess. You know, I got an outside view of your family, as well as the inside one? Your mamma and pop probably don’t see it how I do, but you’re a fool, boy. You work your way through everyone in a skirt you can find, then suddenly you get in a relationship and you marry the guy within three months? It won’t last, ya idjit.”_

_“Maybe I worked through all those girls because I hadn’t found him.”_

_“Whatever you need to tell yourself.”_

_“We’re going to last.”_

_Bobby snorted, and adjusted his worn baseball cap._

_“Should’ve known you’d be determined to prove me wrong. So what’s your mamma all upset about this morning?”_

_Dean filled him in on the entire situation, carefully sidestepping the issue that Castiel had never been with anyone before, and Bobby tinkered with the car engine as he listened._

_“So your fool of a brother caused all their arguing? No wonder the kid’s been avoiding me since your last visit. Move the beam, I can’t work in darkness.”_

_Dean tilted the flashlight, and found the spot Bobby was working on._

_“So what do you think I should do?”_

_“It’s obvious, isn’t it? You make your mamma happy. Your Castiel will probably be fine with a little breathing space.” Bobby reached behind him and started feeling for a wrench, which Dean passed over, careful to keep the beam in place. “It’ll give the kid a chance to relax. Mary said he’s a bit uptight after the whole brought-up-in-a-crazy-huge-family-raised-on-a-bible bit.”_

_Bobby snorted again, and passed the wrench back after tightening a nut._

_“And Dean? Mary knows it wasn’t you. Castiel told her when you tried to strop at me over Thanksgiving. Of course that kid was going to be a virgin, with that background. If you ask me, she’s trying to make sure you don’t mess him up.”_

_Dean dropped the flashlight, and Bobby clicked his tongue, muttering the word “Idjit.”_

 

 

Bobby let Dean into the house with a grunt and a roll of the eyes, and Dean followed as he rolled his wheelchair through the hallway into the study, where he parked up by his desk and shifted a few papers around.

 

“So, what did you want, Dean?”

 

Dean sat on the chair opposite, resting his computer case by the seat. He tried to think of how to phrase what he wanted to say without sounding weak.

 

“I guess I wanted some advice.”

 

Bobby eyed him through a squint, and then produced a bottle of whiskey, and two crystal tumblers. He poured a small amount in one glass, and passed it to Dean before he poured substantially more in the other glass.

 

“This about you and Cas coming over on Friday, isn’t it?”

 

“Kinda.”

 

“About your mamma and pop?”

 

Dean looked at his knees, running a finger along the fold of the material covering them.

 

“No, it’s about Cas and me.”

 

Bobby took a swig of whiskey from his glass.

 

“You’re going to have to give me more than that, boy.”

 

“Cas wants to move away. I think he thinks by being away from here, I’d open up a little more, you know?”

 

“Right. So what’s the problem?”

 

Dean was regretting coming to Bobby.

 

“I don’t know, Bobby. I don’t,” he sighed, and scrubbed a hand over his hair, trying to think on how he wanted to phrase it exactly.

 

“You know boy, I was wrong about you and Castiel. About you lasting. I think you’re strong enough to do it, the way he was looking at you on Friday? That boy still has it bad.”

 

“I don’t doubt that he still loves me.”

 

“So when do you move?”

 

Dean looked up, meeting the older man’s eyes, and Bobby smiled. At least, Dean assumed it was a smile.

 

“Dean, remember when you were over, asking advice because your pop said you couldn’t share a bed with Castiel, and I said you should make your mamma happy?” He waited for Dean to nod before continuing. “Same rules apply. Make Cas happy. He wants to move, why not move? You’re not happy here, but you might have a chance there.”

 

Dean looked away again, and Bobby leaned forward.

 

“Your mamma and pop aren’t going anywhere now. A house is just a house, boy. Stop feeling guilty, start living again.”

 

Dean nodded, and tipped the rest of the whiskey back, embracing the burn. He knew that there was something in everyone he knew giving the exact same advice, but there was one thing being told what to do and another thing managing to do it.

 

“Thanks Bobby.”

 

“I know. You know he’s probably waiting for you to go home already.”

 

Dean nodded again, and stood up, picking up his computer case.

 

“Take care, Bobby.”


	12. Chapter 12

Dean let himself into the house, and walked through to Castiel’s study, where he was once again going through his sticky notes and moving them about on his board. He moved quietly, sitting at the desk and pulling his laptop out of the bag, placing it on the space in front of him and plugging it in before going online.

 

He started looking through the results of his latest assignment, enough to take note that Benny had failed the last set of questions and that Kevin had only attained a B grade - something he was dreading the fallout from, because Mrs Tran would not take that insult - and then he found himself clicking self-consciously onto property websites, looking up at Castiel as he did so.

 

But Castiel did not seem to have noticed his presence, he was sitting cross-legged in front of his mood board, head cocked to the side as he tapped a sharpie against his chin. So Dean didn’t feel too bad for hunching forward and clicking through the options for an apartment.

 

He could see the appeal of looking at real estate, after a couple of sites. It was like looking in to other people’s lives, seeing the way they used the space, how they chose to decorate. He soon lost himself in other people’s lives, and only came back to earth when Castiel slipped his hands along Dean’s neck, and underneath his shirt to rest on his chest, before kissing the back of his head and nuzzling against him.

 

“That place is cute,” Castiel sounded off-hand.

 

“I’m just looking.”

 

Castiel kissed his cheek tenderly, and removed a hand from under Dean’s shirt to reach for the keyboard.

 

“You should look at this place then, it’s where I had a viewing.”

 

He clicked on the address bar, then typed one-handed, still much faster than most adults that Dean knew. A new page came up, and Castiel searched through that until he found the property he was after, and then he slipped his hand back into Dean’s shirt, against his warm skin, and kissed him again.

 

Dean slowly began poring over the apartment, knowing that Castiel had singled it out already. It was gorgeous, with faux marble pillars in the foyer and the sunken bath in the en suite of the master bedroom. It was like looking into an entirely different life, one that he wasn’t sure they could afford.

 

“That’s a lot of space for New York,” he said eventually.

 

“I know. Did you check out the built in shelves in the study? The cute alcove seating? The floor-to-ceiling windows?”

 

Castiel couldn’t keep his enthusiasm at bay.

 

“I checked the price too, Cas. We can’t afford this.”

 

“Well, actually, we can. I got my royalties the other day, it’s pretty impressive.”

 

Dean tapped his finger against the side of the laptop as he tried to think about how to deal with this news.

 

“Come on, Dean. We don’t pay rent on this place either; we barely pay out for anything. And don’t you dare mention how small your salary is.”

 

Castiel pulled closer, his fingers digging in to Dean’s pectorals slightly.

 

“Okay, I’ll put it this way - I am sick of hotels every time I go to New York. I spend at least three months of my life there. It makes sense to have a place, rather than looking for hotels or rental places. It’s a cash suck. At least with a place like that, I can make somewhere home in New York. And then you actually have a shot at visiting me on those long trips, because who else is going to know besides the doorman? And Samandriel wants to go to college next year, he’s ready for it. Please?”

 

Dean clicked through the site again, and then noticed a small by line that changed everything.

 

“Babe, someone’s already put a down payment on it. As great as this apartment is, it’s not going to be ours.”

 

Castiel didn’t respond, and Dean turned his head, finally meeting his eye. He suddenly understood.

 

“That’s a big decision to make without me.”

 

“What was I meant to do, Dean? A place like that gets snapped up. And like I said, until you’re ready to move, it can be my place to stay while I’m meeting with my publisher, or doing television interviews, or whatever. And there’s a private residents garage, you can store Baby in there when you come up town.”

 

Dean looked back at the screen, and clicked through the site again, looking at the apartment that Castiel had chosen.

 

“Bobby thinks we should move,” he told the screen after a few tense moments.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“He always did have good advice.”

 

Dean grunted, still clicking through the images, one after another. It was a gorgeous place, and it would make Castiel undeniably happy to go, but something still held Dean back, kept him in his parent’s house, kept him in the secure little life that he’d managed to make in the years since he and Castiel had left college.

 

_Dean had somehow managed to survive the summer without sleeping beside Castiel. Save for the moments in the backyard where his tiredness and the heat of the day overwhelmed him, and he would nap in the flat bed of the pick up truck, curled up next to Castiel, the slight breeze of the wind ensuring that they could lay together without overheating. But sleeping together finally wasn’t the only reason Dean was relieved to be back at college, there was an atmosphere at his parent’s house that he wasn’t used to, and he hated it._

_He didn’t like to blame either of his parents, but he knew most of the tension emanated from John, and it increased when Castiel was nearby. Maybe because Castiel hadn’t shared his enthusiasm over sports, or had been indifferent to some show on the television where they auctioned well-maintained classic cars, preferring to spend his time in the kitchen, talking with Mary._

_But that didn’t matter now. Now, Dean and Castiel were moving into a house near campus with Ash, and Castiel’s friend Chuck. When Dean had brought up the idea to Ash, he had laughed and said it might be nice to actually see his roommate once in a while. And Castiel had reported that Chuck had agreed on a financial basis. It seemed to be an unspoken agreement that Dean and Castiel would have the larger room, since it was their idea to house share, and they were married and therefore sharing the space._

_Dean wasn’t sure what to expect, when Ash and Chuck met each other, but somehow they ended up having a huge conversation about Ernest Hemingway, and Dean and Castiel had somehow become bystanders, watching their two friends bond over the influential writer. They left the living room, knowing that they wouldn’t be missed, and entered their bedroom. Dean flopped down on their newly acquired double bed, as Castiel began unpacking a box of books, lining them up on the bookshelf in the room. When he was done, he turned to face Dean, who was watching him with a lazy smile on his face._

_“I’ve been thinking, over the summer,” he began. “About our relationship.”_

_Dean’s smile fell, and he shifted on the bed._

_“There’s something wrong with our relationship?” he asked cautiously._

_“Well, one aspect. With all the conflict around your parents, and the root of the issue,” Castiel sat on the bed near Dean. “I’ve been considering our physical relationship.”_

_Dean didn’t know how to react to Castiel’s statement. They hadn’t really had a physical relationship, but that was fine. Dean was surprised at how well he coped without sex, but if it was a question of going without sex or going without Cas? It was no contest._

_Castiel reached over and took his hand gently, shifting closer on the bed._

_“Dean, I,” he inhaled, and then exhaled slowly. “I think we should have intercourse.”_

_Dean hadn’t been expecting that._

_“Uh, yeah. Sure Cas.” He babbled. And then Castiel launched himself, knocking Dean back against the headboard as he peppered him in sloppy kisses. “Now?”_

_“Why not now?” Castiel propped himself up above Dean’s prone figure. “I’ve made you wait for a year.”_

_“I know, but Cas, I’m,” he cut himself off to check that their bedroom door was closed, before looking back at his husband. “I’m just concerned for you. You know, losing your virginity? That’s a big deal.”_

_“And you’re my husband. Who else is going to take it?”_

_Dean looked at Castiel seriously, even as Castiel slid a leg over his own, straddling him, pressing their bodies together._

_“We still shouldn’t rush it. I don’t want to do anything that you’re going to end up regretting.”_

_“I won’t regret you,” Castiel held firm, leaning down to kiss Dean again._

_“We haven’t even seen each other naked,” Dean pointed out._

_“You perplex me sometimes, Dean. You weren’t this hesitant the night we met, you didn’t second-guess marrying me.”_

_“I didn’t know you, the night we met. And just talking with you was enough for me to realize that actually, I didn’t want a fling, I wanted you.”_

_Castiel smiled shyly._

_“And I just want you too,” he promised, and pulled his sweater over his head, undoing the buttons of his shirt._

_“Cas,” Dean’s voice sounded weak. Castiel responded by grabbing one of Dean’s hands, and placing it on his abdomen._

_“I won’t regret you,” Castiel repeated, their eyes locking together. Dean nodded, unable to speak further, and this time when Castiel leaned towards him, he allowed it, steading Castiel with the hand on his bare stomach. Their kisses were tentative at first, but Dean soon got into it, rolling over so that he pinned Castiel down, raising his arms up as his t-shirt was pushed off, groaning as he felt Castiel’s skin against his own. He felt Castiel’s hands on his hips, the heels of his hands kneading against Dean’s jeans, and finally took the initiative. After all, Castiel was right, they were married. He undid Castiel’s pants, easing them down as Castiel lifted his butt, helping Dean’s progress._

_Castiel began undoing Dean’s jeans too, and Dean pulled them off quickly, so that they were lying together in just their underwear, and Dean found himself rolling over again, now underneath Castiel as his husband peppered his chest with kisses. He could feel his whole body reacting, embracing what he’d gone for months without, his breathing stuttering as all the blood rushed to his groin._

_“What do you want to do?” Dean whispered. Castiel kissed his way back to Dean’s mouth before answering._

_“You’re the one with the experience.”_

_“I don’t know about that, you kissing my chest just then felt pretty awesome.”_

_Castiel beamed, his hands skimming along Dean’s side, coming to rest again on Dean’s hip._

_“I’m enjoying what we’re doing right now, Dean. Let’s just see where it goes.”_

_Dean sat up slightly._

_“You know what I mean, don’t you? Like, you know what to expect from me?”_

_Castiel nodded far too quickly. Dean groaned in frustration._

_“Okay. Let’s take this slow.”_

 

Dean hated this part of his job. Especially when it coincided with Castiel being home. Mostly, he hated this part because of the influx of parents who would tell him how much he sucked at his job, when he knew that he was good. He’d gotten Jo to focus, he was busting his ass getting Benny to stop failing, as well as trying to influence his attitude to Charlie.

 

Parent teacher conferences sucked. At least so far he’d dealt with some easier parents, like Ellen Harvelle who seemed happy with Jo’s grades and spent about five minutes probing Dean on ‘that Samandriel kid’, or like Garth Fitzgerald’s father who spent so much time discussing Garth’s extracurriculars that they barely touched on his C average. But now he was contending with Mrs Tran.

 

“I just don’t understand why you’re failing him.” She sat primly in her seat, and Dean forced himself not to argue back.

 

“I’ve told you before, Mrs Tran, this is standardized. When it comes to the online questions, I don’t write them, I just assign them. If you have a problem with Kevin’s performance on those questions, you have to take it up with the Principal, not me. And Kevin’s not failing, he’s one of the best in class.”

 

“But not the best? And don’t worry, I’ve got an appointment with the Principal right after this.”

 

Dean didn’t doubt that for a moment.

 

“Mrs Tran, Kevin is bright, you know that, and I know that, but there are other students who do just as well, or better-”

 

“No. No! Kevin goes home and he has an hour session with a tutor before his piano lesson, and then his violin lesson, and then he does homework for six hours. He has to be the best!”

 

Dean felt so sorry for Kevin.

 

“Maybe you need to schedule in some free time? Give him the chance to rest his mind so he can approach his schoolwork fresh and actually concentrate on the work?”

 

“Are you saying that Kevin has poor concentration?”

 

Dean wanted to bury his head in his hands, or just leave the room. He hated how much Mrs Tran always seemed to want to want to fight. He tried to take charge of the situation again.

 

“Mrs Tran, Kevin’s getting a B in my class. That’s not a fail. He’d have an A if he participated more in class discussions, just so I can see he actually gets this stuff and isn’t just parroting what he’s been told. He’d have an A if he got the chance to think clearly before turning in assignments. Give him maybe an hour of free time, and cut back the insane amount of hours you have him studying for.”

 

He shuffled some papers on his desk rather than meet her stink eye. She huffed noisily, and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket, and started up the browser, looking at the apartment Castiel had bought. He still wasn’t on board with the idea of moving, not completely, but the apartment was gorgeous. Dean liked at least dreaming that he had the courage to do it, to leave his parents home town and live there. He could imagine cooking for Castiel in the streamlined kitchen, and sharing a glass of wine on the balcony as the sun set over the Hudson. It sounded like some out of reach dream.

 

“Hello?”

 

Dean looked up, as a woman stuck her head around the door.

 

“Hey. Are you Mrs Bradbury?”

 

“Ms Bradbury, actually,” she slipped into the room, and checked her watch. “Sorry, I only have a couple of minutes before I have to go back.”

 

“Okay,” Dean slid his phone into his pocket, watching her nervous movements. “I don’t think there’s much to say for Charlie’s schoolwork, she’s incredibly smart, even if she holds back in class. But I’m worried about her-”

 

“She told me. What you’ve done for her, what you told her. I know you wanted everything to be a secret, but Charlie and I, we don’t see each other very much between my work and her school. She tells me everything. I hate that she feels so vulnerable here, but I’m glad there’s a teacher fighting for her.”

 

Dean felt his phone burning a hole in his pocket, and his stomach twisted. Of course he couldn’t move to New York and leave someone as defenseless as Charlie behind.

 

“I’m doing my best. And from what I can tell, she likes spending time with my brother-in-law. She definitely needs a friend.”

 

“She does. Well, thanks, Mr Winchester. I’d better go see her other teachers before my lunch break is done.”

 

Ms Bradbury hurried out of the room, and Dean deflated behind his desk. He needed to get home and crack into his liquor cabinet, but of course he couldn’t until he was done with all the parents. He slid his phone back out of his pocket, flicking through the pictures of the apartment, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat.


	13. Chapter 13

Dean drove all the way from Kansas to California, detouring on the way to Sam and Gabriel’s place in order to go to LAX airport. He was picking up Castiel and Samandriel, and hoping that the Kansas license plate didn’t make him too conspicuous. He had no idea how this whole book celebrity thing really worked, whether Castiel spent much of his time mobbed by paparazzi and crazy fans, or if it only happened around book launches … or if it happened at all. It had always been easiest to err on the side of caution and stay away from the furor completely.

 

He had been scouring the pick up area for them both, forgetting to look in the rear view mirror. He jumped as Samandriel opened the door to the backseat, slinging their cases in and taking a seat as Castiel glided in to the passenger seat. There was no entourage, no one chasing after Castiel … it was fine.

 

“Hey, how was your flight?” Dean greeted them as Samandriel clicked his seatbelt on.

 

“Ugh. Don’t even. Baby three seats back would not stop screaming. Full on screaming. Its mom wouldn’t shut it up, she said something to the air hostess about not believing in pacifiers. So now Samandriel has a migraine.”

 

“Shhhh!” Samandriel groaned. Dean shrugged his jacket off, and passed it back to Samandriel, who took it gratefully, shoving it over his head and sliding down in the seat. “If you could not talk as well, that would be amazing.”

 

“We’ll get you to Sam and Gabe’s buddy, then you can down some Tylenol until it knocks you out, okay?”

 

Dean knocked Samandriel’s knee with his knuckle, and turned back around, starting the ignition. Samandriel groaned again, and Dean tried to drive slowly, taking it as easy as he could on his young brother-in-law in the crazy Los Angeles traffic.

 

_“Okay, the rules of the game are simple. We all say one line, and we build a story. It’ll be great!”_

_Dean tried his hardest not to trade a smirk with Ash. This was the first time that Chuck had left his room in a few weeks, and Castiel had encouraged them both to make the effort with him. But neither Dean nor Ash were in the creative writing class, and they found it difficult to relate, sometimes._

_“You start, I’m going to get a beer,’ Ash decided, standing up from his gamer chair. “Dean, you coming?”_

_Dean wanted to say yes, but Castiel caught his eye and he knew he had to refuse._

_“No, just grab me one.”_

_Ash rolled his eyes and drummed the top of the doorframe before disappearing into the kitchen. Castiel settled into Dean’s side on the couch as Chuck started the game._

_“Okay, so, it was a dark and stormy night.”_

_“You’re sure you want to start with something so derivative?” Castiel asked Chuck, elbowing Dean slightly with his elbow._

_“So build on the weak foundations, make them strong.”_

_“That would have been a better opener.”_

_Chuck rolled his eyes and looked to Dean._

_“You carry it on. Castiel won’t over-edit you.”_

_Dean squeezed Castiel’s shoulder, and tried to think of something to add to Chuck’s game._

_“Um, and a dark-haired man called … called … Jimmy Novak was caught out in the driving rain.”_

_Chuck looked at Castiel, waiting for his assessment of Dean’s contribution, as Ash came back into the room, passing Dean a can of beer. They’d already given up on offering Chuck and Castiel alcohol._

_“Jimmy Novak? Where the hell did that come from?” Ash snorted, stabbing a hole in his can and drinking it out of the side._

_“I don’t hear you trying this game, Ash,” Dean shot back. Castiel squeezed his leg, just by his knee._

_“You’re doing an adequate job,” he assured his husband._

_“I have other skills,” Dean winked back, and Castiel rolled his eyes._

_“Hey, hey, house rules, no couple stuff outside your bedroom,” Ash waved his finger at them. He turned to Chuck. “You send a guy to flirt one time and then suddenly they’re married.”_

_“See, if you wrote that in a story, that would be derivative.” Chuck looked sideways at Castiel, who shrugged._

_“They do say reality is far less believable than fantasy.”_

_He tilted his head, resting it against Dean’s shoulder, and Dean held him closer, kissing him through his hair as they listened to Chuck and Ash try to figure out some more of their made up story, leaving Dean and Castiel out of the game. Dean knew it was because they didn’t think he was good enough, and they objected to Castiel’s constant critique. He cuddled closer to Castiel, listening as Ash and Chuck built an increasingly unrealistic life for Jimmy Novak._

You couldn’t miss Sam and Gabriel’s house. Like all the other houses in their street, it was painted a pastel color, a pale yellow that normally fit in well with the baby blue house to the left and the lilac house to the right. But when it came to the holidays, it was like Gabriel went all out on decorations. Dean was sure that they wouldn’t have to use the light switches inside all night, the amount of fairy lights and light-up models that littered the front lawn and outlined the house. There was a tree out front that was so weighed down with fairy lights that it reminded Dean heavily of a sprinkle-laden cake pop. Castiel squinted at the luminous Santa-and-reindeer sled on the roof, and the snowman snow globe on the front lawn, which was edged with solar candy canes.

 

“It’s official, they’ve out-gayed San Francisco.”

 

Dean bit back his snort of laughter.

 

“Think they’ll turn any of it off for Samandriel’s migraine?”

 

Samandriel punctuated this statement with another groan, muffled only slightly by Dean’s jacket.

 

“I’ll pull the fuses.” Castiel decided. “I am not living in the elves workshop the entire Christmas break.”

 

Dean laughed, and climbed out of the car, heading to the back and helping Samandriel out. Castiel followed them up the candy path and rang the doorbell, waiting for a brother to open up and let them in. Sam was the one to open the door; he looked at the sight of Dean, holding Samandriel with the jacket over his head, with Castiel just behind them, glaring at the decorations.

 

“Hey, why’s Samandriel a hostage?”

 

Castiel stepped forward.

 

“We thought it would be a good bargaining chip to get you to turn down the damn decorations.”

 

Sam stepped aside and let them into the house, which was almost as bad inside as it was outside. Dean guided Samandriel into the front room and onto a seat, then went to grab some painkillers and a drink from the kitchen as Sam and Castiel unloaded the car. Samandriel was gulping down the pills as Castiel and Sam finally came back in the house.

 

“It was Gabe. I had a long day at the office, and I guess he had the day off, because I came home at eleven at night and wondered when our house became nuclear. I can’t get him to take it down, inside or out. Every time I do, it’s some line about Christmas spirit and calling me a Scrooge.”

 

He crossed the room to sit beside the enormous Christmas tree that was covered in tinsel, and patted the dog in the basket that Dean hadn’t even noticed.

 

“What has he done to the dog basket?” Castiel groaned.

 

“I know, he got to Scruff,” Sam petted the dog, who lifted his head lazily, then flopped back down. “And Scruff’s barely left the bed since. I think he’s afraid Gabe’s going to decorate it some more if he does.”

 

Sam carried on fussing over his dog for a few moments before he looked up at them.

 

“So hey, you came all together?”

 

“Sort of. Dean picked us up at the airport.”

 

Sam raised both eyebrows, and looked back at his dog.

 

“The era of secrecy is over?”

 

“Hardly,” Castiel shook his head. “I knew LA would hardly care about some writer turning up. It’s movie stars or nothing.”

 

“You never know, someone could have got it on a camera phone,” Sam pointed out. Castiel rolled his eyes, and Sam turned his attention to Dean. “Is your Christmas present to Cas going to be moving to New York?”

 

Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother, as Samandriel groaned beside him.

 

“Can I go to my room? My head’s killing me.”

 

Sam stood up with a couple of firm pats to Scruff’s side, and then he helped Samandriel out of the room, and up the stairs. Castiel looked at Dean, and he had a sense of foreboding. Castiel had spent the last couple of weeks touring Europe, and Dean had been avoiding his calls since the parent teacher conferences. He knew that now they had the closest thing to privacy they were going to get this vacation, Castiel was going to bring it up.

 

“I guess you’ve been busy with state testing lately, huh?”

 

“Something like that,” Dean’s mouth felt dry.

 

“I’ve missed your voice,” Castiel said quietly. “I thought we agreed that when we couldn’t see each other, touch each other, we’d at least make sure we could talk to each other.”

 

Dean was avoiding eye contact.

 

“I know, I’ve just been so busy. You know, grading term papers, parent teacher conference, getting roped in at the last minute to help with the drama club’s performance of Romeo and Juliet. And with the time difference, I didn’t want to call you at four in the morning.”

 

“There are apps you know, where we can just leave each other messages to pick up whenever. Like an answerphone service without the cost.”

 

“I know. But honestly, Cas, I’ve finished my work and just crashed, every night.”

 

He knew Castiel wouldn’t bite.

 

“That’s amazing, Dean. The entire time we’ve been married, the past two weeks are the only time you’ve managed to get to sleep without me?”

 

Dean carried on trying to bluff his way out of the situation.

 

“I guess when I take on too much work I wear myself out.”

 

Castiel stood up, moving towards the door.

 

“Just say it, Dean. You’ve been avoiding me because you don’t want to move.”

 

He left the room, and Dean’s focus dropped to Scruff, who yawned and looked at him with overly innocent eyes.

 

“Don’t you judge me too.”

 

Scruff whined, and lowered his head onto his front paws.

 

_Dean walked into the front room with Ash to find Chuck and Castiel standing around the coffee table, holding plastic wine glasses and bottles of cheap Prosecco. Ash strode over to Chuck and took one of the glasses from him as Castiel beamed at Dean._

_“What’s going on?” Dean asked quietly. “What’re we celebrating?”_

_Castiel stepped forward and pressed a glass into his hand as Chuck answered._

_“He wouldn’t say until you came home.”_

_Dean wrapped his arm around Castiel’s waist, and waited for Castiel to explain._

_“Okay, so, I wrote this story in the year before we met, a personal project on top of assignments,” Castiel’s eyes were glued on Dean. “I showed it to my tutor and she said I had a good idea developing. So I finished a draft, got one of the other guys in class - Frank, he’s totally crazy - to read it through, beta it. And then I sent it to a bunch of agents.”_

_“So you got an agent? Awesome,” Dean beamed. Castiel’s smile faltered slightly._

_“Well, yes, but that was back in February. We got a publishing deal through this morning.” Castiel’s eyes were wide with shock as he carried on talking. “There were four houses fighting over me, can you believe that?”_

_Dean nodded, and kissed his temple._

_“I can’t believe there were only four.”_

_Castiel’s smile hitched up further, and he tapped his plastic glass against Dean’s. Ash and Chuck joined in, shouting ‘cheers’ before downing their glasses._

_“I can’t believe it won’t be long until there’s a Castiel Winchester book in the local bookstore,” Chuck shook his head, and then seemed to drift off. “Although, by the time they’ve written Castiel Winchester on the cover, there won’t be room for a book title, or a design.”_

_“He could be C. Winchester?” Dean pointed out._

_“Mr Dean,” Ash smirked. Dean reached over and punched him in the shoulder._

_“Maybe you could have an alias? Or whatever they call it. A pen name. Just so they can get more on the book.”_

_Castiel had been taking a sip of his drink, but Chuck’s comment had struck a chord and he paused with his mouth against the plastic._

_“An alias would be beneficial,” he mused. “I don’t know what I’d do if my father suddenly turned up because he’d heard I’d written a book. But I wouldn’t know what name to use instead of Castiel.”_

_Chuck and Ash exchanged a supercilious look, and said together,_

_“Jimmy Novak!”_

_It had become a joke since Dean’s contribution to the writing game. Who ate the last cookie? Jimmy Novak. Who peed on the floor instead of in the toilet? Jimmy Novak. Who downloaded gay porn onto Chuck’s computer? Jimmy Novak. Whose turn was it to do the washing up? Jimmy Novak._

_“Guys, are you blaming me for using up all the hot water this morning?” Castiel asked. Ash and Chuck began laughing, and Dean bit his earlobe gently._

_“I’m proud of you, baby.”_

_“Thanks. And I won’t use Jimmy Novak, I never miss trash day,” Castiel promised._

_“Nah, it’s okay. Just because those two are dickbags about me making up that name. I mean, it would be cool to see it on a book. On your book.”_

_Dean could feel his cheeks heating up, knowing that he was circling around being totally cheesy. Castiel leaned even closer, whispering in his ear, showing how well they understood each other._

_“If I did use it, it’s like you’re part of it. Like our marriage is always on the front of my books. Like I always get to have you with me.”_

_“Use it,” Dean urged, and gulped down the rest of his wine._

 

“Who’s a bit of Scruff? I love a bit of Scruff!” Gabriel greeted the poor dog in the basket, plopping a Santa hat on the unsuspecting hound and rubbing his cheeks playfully. Scruff whined, and ducked his head back down onto his forepaws. Gabriel turned around and saw Dean, still slumped on the sofa, lost in thought. Gabriel clicked his fingers in front of his brother-in-law a few times, before Dean came out of his stupor, blinking slowly.

 

“Oh, hey Gabe.”

 

“You didn’t cuss me out for my Scruff puns. Everything okay in there, Deano?”

 

Dean frowned, not really wanting to outpour to his brother-in-law. Castiel had remained in the kitchen with Sam, and Dean had no desire to walk in on them bitching about him. He was stuck dwelling on Charlie Bradbury in any case, on how her mother thought that Dean was doing so much to help her and that he didn’t feel he was even coming close. Gabriel crashed down into the seat beside him anyway, and squeezed his knee.

 

“Talk to me. Cas bothering you about the moving stuff again? I think sometimes he forgets that we’re not all fans of his, desperate to do his bidding.”

 

“Actually, I always enjoy reading his stuff. I get to read the drafts before his agent does. It’s not that, not completely.” He removed Gabriel’s hand from his leg, and found himself confessing everything. “It’s this kid, the one we had come to Thanksgiving because her mom was working so hard? I saw the mom at the parent teacher conference.”

 

“Well there’s a shocker,” Gabriel rolled his eyes. Dean elbowed him.

 

“Not the point, Gabe. Her mom was so grateful to us, for helping Charlie out, and I don’t know, I don’t think we’ve done anything. Nothing that really matters for the kid, they all laugh at her outside class, she eats lunch alone, she goes back to her place to no one. But her mom made it sound like Charlie was always coming over, spending time with Samandriel, you know? And leaving that for New York just seems like the most asshole thing I could do.”

 

Gabriel let out a long, low whistle.

 

“Maybe it is. But Charlie’s going to college soon, right? And then what would be the point in hanging around?”

 

“Charlie’s good enough for a scholarship, for sure. In some ways, she reminds me of Cas when we first met. A little sassier, but quiet. In her own world.”

 

“So, you’re hurting real Cas for pseudo-girl-Cas?”

 

“She’s vulnerable.”

 

Gabriel lowered his voice.

 

“And despite everything, Cas is too. Dean, come on, you’re the reason why he was confident enough to go for an agent, the reason why he felt he could help Samandriel when the call came. I know you’ve been feeling low for a long time, but he’s crying out for you right now.” Gabriel squeezed his leg again, and patted it. “Start saving the people who matter most, okay?”


	14. Chapter 14

Christmas morning was as manic as Thanksgiving. But instead of the five brothers and brothers-in-law fussing around the kitchen, it was instead chaos over presents. Scruff was ‘helping’ Samandriel rip into his gifts, and Castiel was ignoring his pile of presents to follow Dean around with a bunch of mistletoe. Sam was complaining loudly about his ‘gift’ from Castiel.

 

“A copy of one of your books doesn’t count!”

 

“It’s signed! It’s worth a ton.”

 

“It’s personalized. It’s worthless.”

 

“Nonsense! There must be a few Sam’s who would be thrilled with a personalized copy of my book.” Castiel pressed Dean onto the sofa, straddling him and kissing him over and over again.

 

“Come on, Cas, we’ve got presents to unwrap!”

 

“I’ve picked the first one I want to unwrap already,” Castiel breathed in his ear, before nipping the lobe.

 

“You always unwrap me,” Dean whispered back. “No surprises under these clothes.”

 

“Get a tattoo and surprise me then.”

 

Dean succumbed to Castiel’s kiss attack for a few happy minutes, before Sam started up again.

 

“Cas, there’s a couple of notes stuck in this from the publisher. You have to pay for gifts.”

 

“Nope. Remember the first Christmas we exchanged gifts? You gave me a cake you helped Mary with. She told me your help extended to saying ‘I don’t care what I give Dean’s boyfriend, he can have a damn cake.’ So you can have my damn book.”

 

“You realize your husband just sat on that and stewed for how many years to make a point?” Sam tried to address Dean, who was half buried by Castiel and the couch cushions.

 

“It’s the same argument as last year,” Samandriel piped up. “And probably every year before I found you guys. Hey, thanks for the new iPhone!”

 

“Oh my God, Cas is a gift recycler!” Dean snorted, earning himself a jab to the armpit.

 

“Shhh, Christmas presents aren’t supposed to be smart mouths.” Castiel poked him again, then cuddled close, watching Scruff fighting a huge piece of wrapping paper. Dean was watching Sam, who had pulled a small gift from his pile, and read the tag with a slight frown.

 

“Gabe, hun?” He called out. Gabriel, who was in the kitchen preparing dinner, called back as loudly as possible.

 

“Yeah Sammy?”

 

“Apparently you have to be here when I open this?”

 

Gabriel entered the front room, wiping his hands on a dishcloth. He looked at Sam, and pressed his lips together. Dean had a sense of anticipation as he watched his brother start to undo the tape. It was a tiny box, small enough really for a pair of cufflinks, or a ring. Castiel snuggled even closer, and Dean began to play with his hair, running his fingers through it and tugging at the locks gently.

 

Sam pulled the box from the wrapping slowly, and looked at Gabriel before even opening the gift.

 

“I thought we said no rings.”

 

“I say a lot of things. I couldn’t resist!”

 

Sam sighed, and started to pry it open.

 

“Wait, are you engaged?” Samandriel asked. Sam and Gabriel nodded together, and Samandriel leapt up, Scruff prancing about beside him, believing it was some new game. “That’s great, congratulations!”

 

He stepped forward to hug them both, and Castiel scooted up slightly to whisper in Dean’s ear.

 

“It’s okay, we checked, they can get married. Like, you and me being married won’t get in their way.”

 

Dean nodded, wanting to get up and congratulate his brother properly. But it wouldn’t be Christmas if Castiel didn’t keep him pinned to the closest available surface.

 

“And we can get married in state, with that new law,” Gabe quipped at Castiel and Dean. Castiel’s response was to kiss Dean in a borderline pornographic way. “Glad you approve, little bro.”

 

_Dean was busy packing for another Christmas at his parents, wondering when Castiel was going to show up. He was in his creative writing class, and Dean knew that sometimes, he would go to the nearby coffee shop with his classmates and discuss English in terms that often went over Dean’s head. Beyond Chuck there was his friend Frank, and a few other people that Castiel had only introduced him to once. He knew there was an Anna someone, and Hail, and some pretentious guy called Bartholomew who Dean had instantly taken a dislike to._

_He checked his watch, and hoped Castiel wasn’t going to be long. It was already going to be a long drive, and it was getting late. He sent a quick text message, hoping he didn’t sound like he was nagging Castiel too much. He was just anxious to make their way to his parents’ house._

_He finished packing his duffel bag as the door swung open, and Castiel walked in slowly, phone in his hand. Dean turned around, feeling relieved that he’d finally returned home, at least until he noticed that his husband was carefully not making eye contact with him._

_“What’s up?” Dean greeted him. Castiel rotated the phone in his hand._

_“I won’t be able to come with you. Not right away.”_

_“What?”_

_Castiel folded his arms tightly across his chest, tucking his phone into his armpit._

_“I had a call from my agent, just after class. They want me to go to a meeting in New York. I think they want to show me a few potential book covers. It won’t be for long, but it cuts into the time with your parents. They um, they’ve booked me a plane ticket to New York, and one back to Kansas afterwards.”_

_Dean couldn’t help but feel wounded by this news. He didn’t quite know how to function without Castiel nearby, and having him in a different state would be so difficult to deal with, no matter how short the time apart was. But this was Castiel’s dream, and Dean knew he couldn’t get in the way. He had a role to play as the supportive husband._

_“Okay. So I guess we don’t have enough time to celebrate?”_

_Castiel shook his head mutely. Dean grabbed a rucksack and began shoving clothes into it._

_“Well, you’ll need some stuff to change into in the morning, huh?”_

_“Dean,” Castiel’s voice was soft._

_“I can still drive you to the airport, right? I can do that much?”_

_“I’m going to miss you. Even for a day.”_

_Dean turned around, looking at Castiel as he held himself in the doorway._

_“I’ll miss you too. But this is your dream, Cas. Your big break. You can’t not go, just because of me. Because of us.”_

_Castiel looked pained, and Dean came closer, rubbing his biceps._

_“Baby, this is going to be a good thing. People are going to see just how talented you are, and you’re going to love the book cover. And I’ll help Mom make a thousand cookies for you.” He kissed the tip of Castiel’s nose. “We’ll call, okay? We’ll talk tonight, before you go to sleep. You can call me and freak out just before the meeting. And then you can call me afterwards when you’re totally psyched. Call me any time. I’ll pick up.”_

_Castiel leaned closer to him, resting his forehead against Dean’s._

_“A thousand cookies?” He asked quietly. Dean forced a smile._

_“I knew you wouldn’t resist my mom’s cookies. Hey, you might even end up on the same flight as Gabriel.”_

_Castiel unfurled his arms, and rested them on Dean’s chest._

_“That’s going to make me miss you more.”_

_Dean forced a chuckle._

_“It won’t be for long, even if it feels that way. We’ll catch up, even if we have to drive the Impala somewhere to make out.”_

_Castiel smiled that time._

_“We should do that anyway.”_

_“It’s a deal. You’ll do great Cas.”_

 

The week between Christmas and New Years passed by quickly. Sam and Gabriel were still working, leaving Samandriel, Castiel and Dean alone with each other for much of the time. Samandriel balanced his time between playing with Scruff and hiding up in his room, plugged into his headphones and laptop. Dean and Castiel had spent the time watching Christmas movies, drinking eggnog and just enjoying being together. Neither of them were in any hurry to bring up the topic of whether Dean would be moving into the apartment.

 

On New Years Eve, both Sam and Gabriel were home, and they all sat around the front room, bathing in the glow of the many fairy lights Gabriel had strung up and listening to the muted radio, where Sam had set the station to easy listening. Dean and Sam were both drinking beer, while everyone else had wine, and there was Champagne chilling for midnight. Samandriel was cross-legged on the floor, stroking Scruff’s fur, while Sam and Gabriel slouched over their sofa. Dean had taken over the armchair, and Castiel was curled up in his lap. Dean felt pretty content as he held Castiel close.

 

“So, how much does it blow, being the only single one on New Years Eve?” Gabriel asked Samandriel.

 

“Clearly, you’re missing my bond with your dog. I am so stealing Scruff,” Samandriel didn’t even look up at his brother. “I’m not lonely.”

 

“You’re also not kissing our dog,” Sam chimed in, stretching his legs out and over Gabriel’s lap.

 

“Well, sure. I’m not a freak. And besides, this time next year, I might have a girlfriend in college.” Samandriel didn’t break under the teasing.

 

“I bet he doesn’t. I bet he calls at five minutes to midnight, freaking out because there are three girls all expecting a midnight kiss,” Dean laughed. Castiel poked him.

 

“Samandriel isn’t you at seventeen, Dean. Thank God,” Castiel nudged his shoulder into Dean’s chest, trying to get even closer. “Is that your resolution, Samandriel? To get a girlfriend at some point?”

 

“And get to college,” Samandriel nodded. “What about you? What’s your resolution?”

 

“To make headway with this new fantasy novel. And convince Dean that he really, really wants to live in New York.”

 

“Cas is going to be the first of us to break his resolutions,” Gabriel sniggered, nudging Sam’s leg.

 

“Gabe, honey, you make the same resolution every year. And every year, you break it before it gets to January second.”

 

Everyone started speaking together, mimicking Gabriel.

 

“This is the year I absolutely, seriously, honestly, start eating healthy and give up on candy. I promise, Sam, I’ll even eat carrots.”

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

 

“You know, Gabe, if everyone can get that word perfect … maybe it’s time for a new resolution.” Sam sat up. “Like, maybe one to do with our wedding?”

 

“Fine,” Gabe didn’t seem the slightest bit mollified. “I promise not to run off with you to Vegas, no matter how much Dean and Cas make me think we should.”

 

“Well, I promise that, if you forget and suggest it, I’ll remind you that they basically did that to get married.”

 

“Pretty sure our marriage license says New York State on it,” Dean piped up.

 

“Pretty sure you came home one day and was like ‘oh yeah, Cas and me got married,’ the second time I ever met him. What’s your resolution?”

 

Sam raised his eyebrows innocently, and drank from his beer bottle. Dean looked down, at the glass that Castiel held carefully in his fingers. He had been thinking long and hard all vacation about what his resolution could be, but nothing seemed to fit right. Castiel extended a finger from the glass and stroked his wrist gently.

 

“Perhaps,” Castiel said gently. “You could resolve to stand up more to your Principal, and ignore those teachers who gossip in front of you?”

 

Dean looked up, and caught the weak smile on Castiel’s face, his attempt to be both understanding and patient. His chest felt tight, and wished that their brothers weren’t in the room with them so he could say something sappy to alleviate the sensation. Something to let Castiel know that after seven years of marriage, he was still the most important thing in Dean’s life. He hoped he could convey it all with just a look.

 

“Oh, crap, it’s almost midnight,’ Sam yelped, grabbing the remote and flicking the television on to where they could watch the ball drop in Times Square. Dean took advantage of Sam’s flailing limbs to lean closer to Castiel, whispering in his ear.

 

“I’ve got a better resolution. To show you how much I love you. To be the man you married.”

 

Castiel didn’t reply, but tapped his wine glass against Dean’s beer glass. Dean didn’t need the words; that gesture was enough to know it was the right decision. Gabriel poured out the champagne, passing the new glasses around quickly, the countdown already started.

 

Samandriel was the only one to count down as the television did, with Sam and Gabriel joining in to call out “Happy New Year.” Castiel nuzzled closer, kissing Dean gently, his lips lingering in place. Dean kept his eyes closed, just happy to have Castiel so close.

 

“Happy New Year, Dean.” Castiel murmured, his mouth bumping against Dean’s.

 

“Happy New Year, Cas.”

 

Castiel kissed him again.

 

_Sam had insisted on riding with Dean to the airport, and Dean agreed on the condition that he stayed in the Impala while Dean went to find Castiel and Gabriel. He wanted a few moments alone with his husband before they were crammed into their parents’ house._

_He felt a little unprepared when he found himself standing in amongst a crowd of chauffeurs, all in suits and holding plaques. He hadn’t thought to dress up, or have a sign. It had only been a day, and he’d spot Castiel in a crowd, any time._

_He watched as the flight came up on the arrivals board, and grabbed a coffee from a nearby stand, so Castiel would have a fresh drink by the time he got through the terminal. He had thought, since Castiel only had an overnight bag, he wouldn’t take that long. Somehow Dean had forgotten to allow for Gabriel’s rucksack, which he’d had to check in. They were some of the last through to the entrance, where the crowd around Dean had thankfully cleared. He spotted them first, walking close together and talking rapidly, as though they hadn’t spent an entire plane journey together. He walked quickly over to them, cutting off the conversation._

_“Hey Deano. Is that for me?”_

_“No,” Dean passed the paper cup to Castiel, and took his backpack from him, slipping it over his own arm. “How was it?”_

_“It was good,” Castiel smiled tiredly. “I took a picture of the cover, I said I wanted you to see it. They were fine with it. Thank you for the coffee.”_

_Castiel sipped his drink, as Dean led them to the Impala, where Sam bounded out of the passenger seat, and made a beeline for Gabriel._

_“Hi Gabe.”_

_“Hey, beanpole.”_

_Castiel shook his head, and slipped into Sam’s vacated seat as Dean put the bags in the trunk, listening to the exchange between their brothers._

_“So, you’re back for Christmas, huh?” Sam pressed._

_“Yeah. Time for family, right? And Cas is my family. I go where he is.”_

_Dean slid in to the driver’s seat, waiting for Sam to finish falling over Gabriel so that he could drive away. Castiel nudged him, and passed over his phone, so that Dean could see the cover he’d been talking about. It filled the screen, with hues of yellow and black, the picture like a silhouette against a dim bulb. The title and Castiel’s pen name were grey, standing out against the rest of the book._

__   


_“You won’t miss that.”_

_“No. I really like it, it plays on the idea that everything the characters experience is a farce,” Castiel took a sip of his coffee, and looked in the rearview mirror at their brothers, who still hadn’t joined them in the car. “They um, they discussed a few other things as well. Like a potential book tour that they’d work around classes, and money.”_

_Dean could feel the tension radiating out of his husband, but he had no chance to dig further. Sam and Gabriel were finally climbing into the car, Gabriel drumming the seat just behind Dean._

_“Step on it,” he leaned forward. “What kind of chauffeur are you?”_

_“We’ll talk later,” Castiel promised, and turned his full attention to his coffee. Dean turned the engine on, and began the drive home._

_*_

_Dean and Castiel didn’t get the chance to talk until much later. They were in Dean’s bedroom, the door wide open, sitting on the bed and facing each other._

_“So, this tour,” Dean breathed, knowing that it was going to be a bad sign for them. “Did you get any details?”_

_“Well, I won’t be published for a while. They’re making me do a few more edits, and then they’ll come up with a schedule. It’s most likely going to be over summer. You should come, I’m sure they’d be okay with that.”_

_“A road trip with my man over summer? Yes,” Dean grinned._

_“Your mom won’t be upset that we won’t be here all summer?”_

_“She’ll understand. This is your career, Cas.”_

_“I suppose. They gave me an advance, by the way. They said it wasn’t much, but it’s a down payment on an apartment somewhere. Twenty thousand dollars.”_

_“Yeah, twenty thousand dollars, that’s nothing.” Dean snorted. “Are you kidding me? Twenty thousand? For your book? Do we have to give that back if you don’t sell twenty thousand dollars worth of books?”_

_Castiel shook his head._

_“It’s subsidised by the bigger named authors. If I ever become successful, the cut that the publishers take will go towards the next crop of authors. Like a loop.”_

_“That sucks,” Dean sighed._

_“Perhaps. But we have twenty thousand dollars to find somewhere to live once we graduate, and plenty of time to look. We can go anywhere.”_

_“Pick a place, I’ll look for a teaching job there.” Dean promised, as Gabriel came into the room, pulling off his jeans and flopping onto the airbed._

_“Guys, no kinky sex allowed, okay? I lost my video camera in Tokyo.”_

_Dean rolled his eyes as Castiel grinned at him._

_“So, regular sex is still fine?”_

_Gabriel propped himself on his elbows and glared at Dean._

_“This is your fault. Cas would never have talked back to me before you came along.”_

_“I’m glad he doesn’t take your shit any more,” Dean laid across the bed, and Castiel curled up against him, pulling the blanket over them both. Dean turned off the light and put his arms around Castiel automatically, pulling him closer, snuggling down. “And I’m glad that Mom and Dad changed their mind and let us share my bed again.”_

_“Your dad’s heart didn’t melt suddenly, Dean,” Gabriel spoke up from the airbed. “You do know why you’re in here with us, right?”_

_“Keeping tabs on you?” Dean guessed._

_“There’s no space in Sam’s room. Sam was saying at the airport, there was no way he could fool around with me because your father’s sleeping in there. He’s been in there for the last few months.”_

_Dean felt a weight on his chest that had nothing to do with Castiel lying there._

_“You’re full of shit, Gabe.”_

_“You wanna go to Sam’s room and see?”_

_Dean stayed where he was._

_“No. I don’t want to disturb Cas.”_

_Gabriel snorted, but thankfully didn’t push the subject further. Castiel nuzzled his way up to Dean’s ear to whisper to him in the dark._

_“I wouldn’t want to face that either.”_

_Dean swallowed around a lump in his throat, as Castiel kissed his cheek softly. He didn’t understand why his parents were suddenly not sharing a bed. He couldn’t imagine a night without Castiel in his arms._

 

The holidays had flown by, and it felt like no time had passed before Dean was loading up the Impala with his and Castiel’s possessions. Castiel had taken advantage of Dean packing the car to talk to Samandriel, who had decided to stay with Gabriel and Sam for a while. Dean supposed he was trying to help, giving himself and Castiel some alone time while having a little more freedom than he normally had in Kansas or on tour.

 

He put the last bag in, and headed back to the house, hugging Gabriel briefly with a couple of back slaps thrown in, before moving on to Sam. Castiel was still to one side with Samandriel.

 

“He’ll be okay. Kid needs a break from being at Cas’ side constantly, you know?” Sam patted Dean on the shoulder.

 

“Yeah, I know,” He said quietly. He cleared his throat, and focused on his brother. “So, hey, congratulations again. Let us know if you need any help, and the dates, junk like that.”

 

“Sure thing,” Sam nodded, as Castiel and Samandriel approached finally. Samandriel hugged Dean tightly, and Dean hugged back, slightly confused by Samandriel’s actions.

 

“You okay there, buddy?” Dean tried to lighten the mood.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sam said he’d show me around Stanford so I can see what college will be like. Gabe’s going to teach me some recipes and stuff.” He dropped his voice so the others couldn’t hear, though Castiel was saying an emotional goodbye himself. “Dean? Take care of him. Castiel. I think he’s worn out from the Europe trip.”

 

“I will Samandriel. Thanks. Good luck with your college applications.”

 

Samandriel stepped back, just enough to look Dean in the eye.

 

“I’ve been texting Charlie and Jo, we’re all applying for the same place, Garth too. It’ll be nice to have friends when I go to college.”

 

Dean smiled, letting Samandriel go before things got too mushy, watching as he began playing with Scruff. Castiel caught his eye and nodded towards the car, and they fell into step with each other, separating at the car to get into their respective sides. They waved to Sam and Gabriel, who were still standing in the crowded yard, and Dean pulled out onto the road. Castiel rummaged in the glove compartment and pulled out his sunglasses, sliding them on his nose before sinking back in his seat.

 

“How great is it that we’re going to have months alone, just you and me?” he sighed contentedly. “When was the last time that happened?”

 

“Just before Samandriel wrote you, asking for help?”

 

“It feels a lot longer. We’re actually going to be sleeping together all night, every night, until I finish this next book.”

 

Dean didn’t know how to respond to that. He merely reached across the upholstery, and took Castiel’s hand, stroking his thumb across the back of his knuckles. He hoped that Castiel was telling the truth, that they would have that time together. He was dreading the day that Castiel said he was moving in to the apartment, with or without him.

 

“You don’t seem happy about that. What’s up?” Castiel put his feet on the dashboard, and Dean could see out the corner of his eye that Castiel had turned to look at him.

 

“Where will we be sleeping together all night, every night?”

 

“In our bed, I hope.” Castiel smirked.

 

“Can we do a deal?” Dean took a deep breath, and let it out slowly before continuing. “We stay in Kansas until the end of the school year. We go to New York at spring break, maybe. And once the semester is out, we move up there.”

 

Castiel left the request unanswered for the longest time before finally responding.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“It’s been five years. If I don’t go now, I never will. I’m just giving us time to sell the place, pack it all up, you know.”

 

“I do. You do understand that people might find out who you are up there? That you can hide better in a big city, but get found out a lot quicker? Are you ready to deal with that?”

 

Dean shook his head.

 

“I don’t know if I can cope with all that stuff yet. But I feel like I’m losing you, Cas, and I will never be able to cope with that.”

 

Castiel gave his hand a hard squeeze, and looked out of the window, leaving Dean to try to guess what he could possibly be thinking.


	15. Chapter 15

Castiel was struggling to concentrate on his latest novel. Dean was out at the school, and Castiel had woken up as he was kissed goodbye. He’d taken his time leaving their bed, breathing in the smell of Dean, before having a long shower, and making himself a huge breakfast with far too much coffee. Eventually he’d wandered into the study, and sat in front of his planner board, looking at all the post-it notes scattered about. He knelt in front of the board for an hour, his knees protesting on the hard wood floor, before he sat back, and looked around the study.

 

In some ways, the house still felt like Mary and John’s. Dean hadn’t wanted to change too many things when they moved in permanently, and even the study had hints of Mary’s old craft-making room. The only room that felt like it was remotely theirs was their bedroom, and even then it was only because it had been Dean’s childhood room.

 

And the rest of the time? It felt like Castiel was staying in a guesthouse, or a museum for John and Mary Winchester. He didn’t feel at home, particularly when Dean was in class. And now that Samandriel was staying with Sam and Gabriel, Castiel felt even lonelier. It was a different loneliness to when he was travelling, where things were unfamiliar but he could always call Dean, or talk to Samandriel. This was worse, because there was no one around, and hours to go before Dean finished work, and in the mean time he was surrounded by reminders of his family. Dean’s family. He drew his knees to his chest and rested his chin between his knees, holding the pose for a while, before he shook himself mentally and decided to stop feeling sorry for himself.

 

He stood up, and headed out the front door, grabbing his keys and jacket on his way. And then he started walking through the town, not caring if he was recognized. He headed to the cemetery, threading his way through the gravestones to the Winchester’s plot. He sat in front of the plaque, the way he’d seen Dean do, and cocked his head to one side.

 

“I know Dean doesn’t talk out loud when he comes here,” Castiel began, feeling self-conscious. “But I feel better doing it. Hi Mary, and John.”

 

He stopped, and tried to gather his thoughts, tracing his fingers through the dirt by his feet.

 

“I know you probably don’t want me visiting, that you blame me for a lot of things with Dean, and with Sam, and your own relationship maybe. But Dean finds solace from visiting you still, and I guess that’s what I need now.”

 

He closed his eyes, and pictured Mary, her warm smile as they drank tea early in the morning, sharing a plate of homemade cookies as they talked about Dean on a level he could never manage with his husband. Hearing about the cute, sweet things he did as a kid, talking about how he truly felt about Dean with the one person who could begin to understand the nuances of their connection.

 

“It all feels like such a mess. It has since your accident. Maybe before then, but Dean and I were in our own little world so much we didn’t notice. I don’t know.” He opened his eyes, and brought his hands together in his lap. “I don’t think I can apologize enough, for the strain our relationship put on yours. For how out of your depth you must have felt when Dean brought me home for the first time. That we couldn’t find some middle ground before you were taken from us.”

 

He sighed, unsure how to go on. It was so much easier to write interactions than to have them, especially in this situation where they could hardly answer back. But Castiel could imagine it, Mary waving away his concerns with a hug and a smile, John grunting as a response, but treating Castiel slightly better afterwards, remaining in the room when Castiel was there and no longer looking through him whenever he was by Dean’s side. They might not discuss it in great detail, but Castiel missed Dean’s parents too. After all, they’d taken him in without much question, and his own parents were so indoctrinated into their world that Castiel always felt like an afterthought, something to be utilized in their big plans for their community. And Mary may have been the driving force in making Castiel feel like he was as much a Winchester as any of them, but he had watched John too, watched as he put his wife’s whims before his own. He had never told Dean, but sometimes he felt like he was emulating John himself, putting Dean’s needs first without hesitation. It sounded odd, to say that John had taught him as much about love as Dean or Mary had, but it was true. Castiel had seen how much he had loved his wife in his own way. It wasn’t always about big displays of romance; it was about listening to what wasn’t being said and reacting to that.

 

Castiel stood up eventually, dusting his hands off.

 

“Goodbye,” he whispered, and turned around, spotting Bobby in the distance, in his wheelchair. He didn’t know why his old neighbor was there but he could tell the old coot had been watching him the whole time. “Hello, Bobby.”

 

“Need a ride? Word on the street outside is that Jimmy Novak’s in town.”

 

Castiel had forgotten that he’d walked through the town, not trying to hide his identity. He knew how foolhardy that was, especially in light of all his promises to Dean.

 

“Yes please, if that’s okay.”

 

Bobby rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, but wheeled his way back to his modified truck. Castiel made to help him into the cab, and Bobby batted his hands away.

 

“I lost the use of my legs, I didn’t lose my resourcefulness. Get in the other side.”

 

Castiel smiled to himself, and took the advice.

 

_“Castiel, if I ask you something, would you be honest with me?” Mary asked as she sipped her herbal tea. Castiel nodded, reaching across the table between them for yet another cookie. Dean had been correct; Castiel’s favorite cookies remained the ones made by Mary Winchester._

_“Of course, Mary. I’m always honest.”_

_She nodded slowly, and put both hands around her mug, leaning closer._

_“It’s about Gabriel. Sam hasn’t been able to stop talking about him since he was last here. He was so upset when you came without him over the summer. He broke up with his girlfriend because of Gabriel. The feeling is mutual, isn’t it?”_

_Castiel chewed slowly on his cookie, trying to think of how to respond. Mary didn’t rush him for an answer._

_“I know that Gabriel likes him, and enjoys his company. But I think he’s a little contrite about what happened last Christmas. He’s realized that maybe he has to impress you and John before anything else can happen with Sam. And that maybe he should at least have waited for Sam to graduate high school before they really started anything.”_

_Mary sipped her tea again, and looked at him over the rim of her mug._

_“I don’t think he’s ever going to impress John,” she admitted quietly. “Not with the way they started.”_

_Castiel felt uncomfortable with the way the conversation was progressing, but he wasn’t sure how to salvage it, to bring it back to their normal, easy-going talks._

_“Is everything okay with him? With John? Dean was told last night that you’re not sleeping in the same bed right now. I think he’s taken it to heart, as much as he wouldn’t admit to it.” He focused on playing with the string on his tea bag, rather than looking at Mary._

_“It’s complicated, Castiel. I’m sure you can appreciate that.” She cleared her throat. “It will all be fine.”_

_Castiel looked up at her, and she smiled weakly, before reaching for a cookie herself._

_“Anyway, how about you and Dean? Is everything working out okay with you?”_

_Castiel clung to the subject change, and told her about their house, and the book deal. He could see the relief on her face as he talked as well; glad to be dodging the topic of her own marriage._

 

Dean was standing at the front of class, talking to the freshmen about The Catcher In The Rye. Personally, he hated Holden Caulfield and his misplaced arrogance, but he didn’t have a choice in the set book. He guessed his lack of enthusiasm was showing itself in the very fact that he was just lecturing the kids. Normally he tried to make his classes a little more interesting, knowing that teenagers hated being talked at. He had always hated it.

 

When the bell rang for end of class, he heard the sigh of relief from most of the students, as they filed out of the door. He didn’t assign any homework, figuring that the book and then his lecture would be grueling enough for them. Instead, he gathered his notes, and headed to the English office, despite it being lunch period. He was hoping for some alone time, to sit and eat his sandwich, and look through the pictures of the apartment. He was almost obsessive about it now; thinking of how they could decorate each room, maybe even go furniture shopping at some point.

 

He had only taken a few bites of his sandwich when Lisa and Bela came in, chattering away as usual. He tried not to groan in frustration; after all, Lisa was as entitled to be in the English office as much as he was. He closed the pictures down on his cell phone and concentrated on his food.

 

“So, he’s really back in town for you?” Lisa settled in her chair, pulling out her own lunch and setting it on the desk. Bela helped herself to a cracker covered in healthy-looking toppings.

 

“Yeah, I just got the message from him. He’s killing time until I’m done at school. Today would be the day I have drama club,” Bela shook her head, and bit daintily on the cracker.

 

“I’m sure you’ll make up for lost time afterwards,” Lisa reassured her. “I’m jealous, it’s been so long since Ben’s dad … Dean, did you know? That your friend Jimmy was back in town?”

 

Dean was so grateful that she asked just after he had taken a huge bite, filling his mouth with bread and meat. He chewed slowly as he tried to think quickly. Had Castiel gone out? Were people going to link him back to Dean, after all this time? He knew that it was coming; he and Castiel had even discussed it, on and off, on the long drive from San Francisco to Kansas. They had both decided they were too tired to keep up the charade much longer, that they wanted to put each other first. But he had assumed they would reveal it together, at the end of the school year. He finally swallowed, unable to put his answer off any longer.

 

“Where do you think he’s staying?” He said pointedly, and took another bite. Bela rolled her eyes.

 

“He’s taking me out tonight, so don’t wait up.”

 

Dean snorted around his mouthful, and picked up his cellphone, texting Castiel, asking if everything was okay. He got an answer back almost straight away, that Castiel was in Bobby’s house, and they were holed up with some of Bobby’s first editions. He snorted again, because there was a little bit of truth to Bela’s words - Castiel was going to take forever to leave Bobby’s book collection. He texted again as Lisa and Bela dragged him back into their conversation.

 

“So, how long is he staying for, Dean?” Lisa asked brightly. Dean shrugged.

 

“However long it takes, I guess. He’s looking for inspiration.”

 

He was blagging badly, he knew, but he could hardly care right then. Castiel’s reply came back almost instantly, and Dean checked the message as the girls carried on.

 

“So, like, do Cas and Jimmy get along?”

 

Dean fought the urge to smirk.

 

“Yeah, they’re pretty similar.”

 

“That’s true,” Bela stuck in, obviously upset that Dean was getting most of Lisa’s attention. “Jimmy was saying that Cas was so nice. I think he wants all four of us to maybe double date one time.”

 

Dean didn’t look up from his phone. He took another large bite of his sandwich, and reminded himself that it wouldn’t be long before the truth came out, and then Bela would look like a total fool.

 

_Dean and Castiel had done the entire book tour together. When Castiel was required to work, Dean would often sight-see in the local town, and then they would meet up in their motel room where Castiel would talk enthusiastically about the tour so far, and the reaction to his work, and how he had forgotten he was supposed to be called Jimmy about fifty times. Dean would look for a tacky, tourist shop on his travels, and present Castiel with some small token that he had found in the store. The Impala was slowly filling up with thimbles, state-shaped key rings and the occasional bobble head._

_They had a week of the summer left before classes restarted, and they decided to travel back to Dean’s parents, to see them before they were bogged down with the stress of their final year at college. They drove with the windows down, sunglasses on, and the radio blaring, both of them smiling at each other as they sped to Kansas._

_“Thank you for coming with me, Dean,” Castiel smiled._

_“Thanks for getting me in. I’ve had fun. And besides, the summer would have sucked without you.”_

_“Yes, touring without you would have been a lot more stressful.”_

_“We should do this, every time you do a book tour. Then we never have to go without each other.”_

_Castiel laughed, and leaned across to kiss Dean’s cheek._

_“You are the best thing to ever happen to me, you know that?”_

_“You’re the best thing to happen to me. I think you’ve helped me more than I could ever have helped you.”_

_“That’s not what it’s about though, Dean. Its like what you said just after we got married, that it didn’t matter if you were more experienced than me, because we were equals. So long as I’m always there for you, and you’re always there for me, that’s what counts, right?”_

_Dean pulled over, in the middle of nowhere, and looked at Castiel steadily._

_“You are, beyond any doubt, the most amazing person I’ve ever known.”_

_“I’ll take that as you agreeing with me.”_

_Dean reached across the car, and kissed him firmly, loving the way that Castiel kissed him back. It was so far removed from the tentative way that they used to connect, the way Dean had to be cautious around Castiel’s reservations. It was as though he was proving his point that since they had been intimate there was no real difference between them. They separated eventually, and Dean restarted the car, and pulled back out on the road with a warm glow in his chest._

_The happy feeling lasted the entire drive, but died off as they got settled in Dean’s room. Sam stood just inside the doorway as Dean crashed out on the bed, and Castiel set about putting their clothes away._

_“Thank God you two are here,” Sam sighed, leaning against the doorframe._

_“I know, it’s real easy to miss us,” Dean grinned._

_“This summer has sucked. Dad’s been gone most of the time, sleeping at Uncle Bobby’s, and Mom’s been really down. She said she doesn’t blame you guys, you know, being away all the time. But I think she’s been real lonely.”_

_Dean sat up, and looked at his younger brother._

_“Has Dad been back at all?”_

_Sam shrugged._

_“A couple times. He was drunk, and they yelled at each other, then Mom ran up to their room to cry. I think they’re going to get a divorce. They haven’t said anything, but I just get the feeling. And I think it’s been going on a while, since I left for college, maybe.”_

_“What do they even have to argue about?” Dean said obstinately, as Castiel came to stand between them._

_“Honestly? I think it’s us. Like, Dad can barely deal with you being married to Cas, but then throw in me and Gabriel,” Sam sighed, and looked out the room as though they might be overheard. “I think Mom’s trying to stand up for us, but Dad’s stuck in the past.”_

_Dean looked to Castiel, who was staring at the floor, clearly as unable to deal with this as he was. He looked back at Sam._

_“Maybe it’s just a blip, or Mom’s got empty nest syndrome since you went to college all the way over in California?”_

_“I wish you were right,” Sam said sadly. “I can’t not go to college, not if I want to be a lawyer. And you guys can’t give up if you’re in your last year. I think Bobby’s trying to help. He’s been talking to Dad when he can. But you know what he can be like.”_

_“Maybe we shouldn’t be getting involved,” Castiel said quietly, unable to look either brother in the eye. “As much as I hate the idea that they’re going through this, I’m just worried our interfering will make it worse. I don’t want to come between your parents.”_

_“I think it’s a little bit too late for that.”_

 

Dean was walking through the hallway, on the way to his last class of the day. He’d just used the restroom, and he was rushing, knowing that he would be late to his own class. Maybe it was fate that he’d had to go to the bathroom, and that the route took him past the gym, or else no one would have stumbled on the small crowd of students, who were bending over something. He watched for a moment, listening to the catcalls from the kids at the back, and the thuds from the center of the gathering, just to make sure he knew what he was walking into.

 

“Everyone stay where you are,” Dean commanded, his voice steady, just loud enough to be heard over the crowd. A few at the back turned around, looking ready to run, but Dean wasn’t fazed. “Oh, try and run all you want, you think I won’t give each and every one of your names to the Principal?”

 

He pushed his way through the kids to the ones at the center, to find who was being beaten up. Charlie. She was in the fetal position; her eyes squeezed shut as she was trying not to cry. He turned and looked at the main culprits, pointing to them each in turn. Benny, Fergus, Lilith and Gordon.

 

“Principal’s office. Now. Everyone else, go to class.” No one moved. “NOW.”

 

The crowd dispersed immediately. Dean bent down and picked up Charlie, holding her gingerly so that he didn’t hurt her further.

 

“I’ll be in the Principal’s office in five minutes. If any of you aren’t there,” he eyeballed the four students, who looked less than concerned, and had barely made a move. He didn’t bother finishing his sentence, hoping that they’d sweat it out as he carried Charlie to the nurse. He placed her on the cot in the nurses’ station, where she held him back for a moment.

 

“Mr Winchester? Please, I mean,” she bit her lip, and Dean knew exactly what she was trying to ask of him.

 

“Charlie? They’re not going to get away with doing this to you.”

 

He patted her arm and straightened up, letting the nurse look over Charlie, and make sure she was okay before he left the room, heading straight for the Principal’s office.


	16. Chapter 16

Dean was in the Principal’s office, alone with Zachariah. It was early morning, the day after Dean had found Charlie being beaten up once again, and he was waiting to find out what had happened with the students responsible. Zachariah was keeping him waiting, writing on some form and holding a finger up so that Dean knew it was not yet time to speak.

 

He had tried to enter this office the afternoon before, once he had left Charlie in the nurse’s station, but Zachariah’s secretary refused to let him in, reminding him that he did have a class that he was supposed to be taking and dismissing him indefinitely. He was starting to see what Castiel’s problem was, he felt like he was a burden on the Principal for something that should have been straightforward.

 

Eventually, Zachariah put the form aside, clicked the lid onto the pen and clasped his hands together on the desk, smiling benignly at Dean.

 

“So, I assume you want to discuss the unfortunate incident that you stumbled across during last period yesterday?”

 

“Yes. I’ve checked that Charlie’s okay, I just want to know the outcome for Benny, Fergus, Gordon and Lilith.”

 

Zachariah’s smile became more forced.

 

“They’re on the football team, Dean, and Lilith is a great cheerleader. It’s important for school morale that they continue working hard on the field.”

 

Dean waited for the moment where he heard the length of their suspension, but Zachariah seemed to have nothing more to say.

 

“Right, but they were beating another student, on school property. With a ton of witnesses.” Dean wasn’t sure exactly why he had to spell out the basics to his boss. “I thought the school had a zero tolerance policy on bullying?”

 

Zachariah’s smile was more of a condescending smirk by now.

 

“Dean, have you talked to any of them about what led to that incident?”

 

“I can imagine, trust me.” Dean spat bitterly.

 

“Hmmm, yes. Well, I actually asked each student. There will be no punishment, if that’s what you’re after.”

 

He grabbed another form, effectively dismissing Dean, who sat back in his seat, his ears ringing slightly.

 

“So they beat her up because they think she’s checking out another student, who wasn’t even involved in this, and there’s no punishment?”

 

“They’re on the football team, Dean,” Zachariah spoke to his piece of paper. “And frankly, I don’t hold with all this equality nonsense. The sooner we can stamp out homosexuality, the better. It’s a good lesson for Charlie to learn.”

 

The ringing in Dean’s ears increased, and he could feel himself getting hotter.

 

“Sorry?”

 

He must have heard Zachariah wrong. The Principal didn’t even bother looking up.

 

“It just makes everyone so uncomfortable. It’s not natural.” He shuddered, and Dean narrowed his eyes at Zachariah’s bald head.

 

“I quit.”

 

He stood up, and headed for the door, still feeling hot and his ears ringing loudly.

 

“You can’t just quit,” Zachariah chuckled. “I forgot, one of your friends is gay, isn’t he? That Jimmy guy? Although he’s a prime example of why it’s so wrong, look at how immoral he is.”

 

Dean fought the urge to turn around and punch Zachariah’s stupid, smug face.

 

“I still quit,” he growled, and stomped out of the office, slamming the door loudly behind him. He felt light-headed as he walked through the hallway, heading to the English office to grab his possessions. It was still January, it was months before he and Castiel had agreed to leave, but he knew it was time. He pulled out his cellphone as he walked, still feeling dazed. Castiel picked up quickly.

 

“Dean? Is everything okay? Don’t you have a class?” He sounded concerned, and Dean was grateful for that. It anchored him slightly.

 

“I quit.” It was the only thing Dean could manage to say.

 

“Say that again? I could have sworn you just-”

 

“I quit. I just quit. I’m getting my stuff, and then I’m coming back.”

 

“What happened?”

 

Dean wasn’t sure he could explain it, not with his head feeling as crowded as it did.

 

“I told you about Charlie last night, right?” He muttered, clutching his head with the hand that wasn’t clamped to his phone. “The Principal says she deserved it.”

 

“Dean,” Castiel said his name so tenderly, it made his chest ache on top of everything else.

 

“I won’t be long,” he promised, and hung up just before he walked into the English office, where Lisa was alone for once, typing away on her laptop. Dean found a box, and started loading his books into it, his progress slow while his head continued to spin.

 

_“Where are they?” Dean muttered at Castiel as he scanned the crowd around them, looking for his parents. They had finally gotten to the end of college, and were waiting for their graduation ceremony to begin. Castiel shrugged, looking through the other students and their families as well._

_“I’m sure they’re here. Don’t worry if we don’t see them before the ceremony, we’ll find them after,” Castiel squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to be soothing. They were called to get in line, and Castiel went ahead of Dean as he still hadn’t changed his last name with the college. Dean watched him as he took his certificate and moved across the stage, waiting for the rest of the English majors to go forward, and subtly checking his phone in case his mother had texted to say they were running late, or else where they were in the crowd. Anything. There was nothing, even as Dean’s name was called, and he had to step forward onto the stage._

_At his high school graduation, his mother had signaled to him to look at her for pictures on the stage, but this time, there was nothing, not even the sound of John proudly announcing to whoever was closest that Dean was_ his _boy. He made his way straight over to Castiel, who was standing with Chuck, Frank, and Ash, talking about their future plans. He could see the people that Castiel and Chuck used to be friends with, Anna and Bartholomew, standing nearby and glaring at Castiel. He wasn’t sure what had happened to stop them talking, but he had to admit it was a relief not to be around them and their pretentiousness._

_He checked his cell again; feeling increasingly frustrated that there were no messages whatsoever. He called his mother, but the phone just rang. He even tried his father, but hung up before the answerphone message had really begun. In the end, he called Sam, turning away from his friends as though that would help him hear his brother better._

_“Hey, Dean. Isn’t it your graduation? Why are you calling?” Sam picked up straight away. Dean could hear someone talking in the background, and he heard Sam say, “It’s Dean.”_

_“Who’s that?” Dean asked, hoping it was their parents and they were surprising him with Sam._

_“It’s uh, it’s Gabriel. We um, we’re house hunting out here. Gabe wants to settle down, and he likes California, and I’m out here studying, so …”_

_“So you’re not with Mom and Dad?”_

_“No, they’re at your graduation.”_

_“No, they’re not. Cas and me looked, they’re nowhere, and they’re not picking up their phones.”_

_Sam sighed down the line._

_“I’ll call them, and Bobby, see if I can find them, okay?”_

_“Thanks Sammy.”_

_He hung up, and turned back to Castiel, who was looking over Chuck’s shoulder at his cell phone. He looked up, and Dean could tell by his expression that whatever it was, it wasn’t good._

_*_

_“Dean? Dean, are you awake?” Castiel asked softly. Dean felt the bed move, as Castiel sat behind him, and placed a hand gently on his waist. He understood how his husband would think he was asleep, since he’d been in bed ever since they’d arrived back at John and Mary’s house. But he hadn’t been able to sleep. He could still see them, the bodies that he’d had to identify, broken and covered in blood. John’s car was mangled beyond repair. The police said they’d hit the wall at full speed, the hood catching the corner and almost splitting the car in two. They couldn’t tell why they had crashed, whether an animal had darted into their path or if another driver had made John swerve the car. Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that his parents had been arguing, as they had been at Christmas when he and Castiel last visited. And if that was the case, they had been arguing about him. He was wallowing in guilt._

_Castiel rubbed his side gently, and bent down to kiss his cheek._

_“It’s my fault,” he whispered. Castiel laid his head against Dean’s, cuddling his back._

_“You don’t know that, Dean. Anything could have happened.”_

_Dean didn’t try to contradict him. He continued staring blankly at the wall in front of him, wishing that his mother would appear with a pie or some cupcakes, smiling and talking, just to take away the reality. But he couldn’t even make the image come to life in his head. All he could see was their bloody corpses._

_“Sam and Gabriel will be here soon,” Castiel said gently. “People are going to start showing up for the funeral. You’re going to have to get out of bed.”_

_Dean closed his eyes for a moment, and opened them again almost straight away, still haunted by the scene of the accident, which they had seen on their way home. The last thing he wanted to do was get out of bed, and make nice with his parents friends, or their distant relatives. Castiel didn’t rush him to move._

_“Do you want me to do anything?”_

_Dean wanted to tell Castiel to just stay, but he knew that wouldn’t work, not with the impending funeral._

_“Could you find my suit?” he asked instead._

_“It’s on the back of the door.”_

_Dean rolled off the bed, and headed for the door. He grabbed his suit from where it was hanging, and took it into the bathroom._

“Mr Winchester?” Jo appeared in the doorway to the English office, frowning at the scene in front of her. Dean was placing the books he owned that he wanted to take with him into a box. Lisa was yet to notice that he was packing up. “We’re meant to have a class with you right now.”

 

“Consider it a free period, Jo.” Dean shrugged, and added another book to the box. Jo stepped further into the office.

 

“But some of us are worried about college. We don’t have the time for a free period.”

 

“Think of it like study hall.”

 

“Why aren’t you in class?” Jo folded her arms as she stood in front of him. Dean smiled - despite the way his head still spun - at the obvious role reversal.

 

“I’m not your teacher anymore, Jo.”

 

Lisa finally looked up from her laptop, Dean noticed out the corner of his eye, but it was Jo who continued the debate.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I quit.”

 

“Well, obviously, Mr Winchester. But why? I thought you liked your job. You’re one of our best teachers. So many kids never picked up a book before you came along and made them give a crap about it.”

 

Dean tried to pick his words carefully, aware Lisa was listening for all she was worth.

 

“I love teaching, Jo. And all the students I teach, they’re great. It’s not because of any of you. Personally, I love your dramatic reenactments of Shakespeare.” He looked down at his half-filled box, and decided to hell with it. He had no obligations to the school anymore, after all. “But I started working here not long after my parents died in a car accident. Cas thinks I’ve been stuck in my grief since then, and maybe he’s right. But in my lessons I always felt a little happier, and I only stuck around for you guys. I got a pay-off from teaching, I guess.”

 

He leaned against the desk, still watching Jo, who was clearly listening carefully. Her eyebrows had risen when he mentioned that Cas was male, but let him carry on.

 

“Lately though, it’s not been enough. There’s too much other crap going on. The pay-off isn’t enough anymore. And Cas wants to move … I need to put him first. He’s been doing it for me for too long.”

 

“Is this about what happened yesterday, with Charlie?” Jo asked quietly.

 

“Cas is a _guy_?” Lisa’s excited voice broke through the conversation. Dean closed his eyes, just for a moment, and then refocused on Jo.

 

“No, not- in a way, I guess. Not because of what happened to her, but because of the way it’s being handled. I can’t live with that.”

 

Jo nodded slowly, hunching her shoulders up.

 

“You know, I wasn’t involved in that, at all. I talked to Charlie after we got changed, after gym. I’ve been talking to Samandriel since he was here with Jimmy Novak, and he said he was friends with Charlie. I was the one who talked to her; I wanted to talk about Samandriel. I don’t know who decided Charlie was in the wrong, or why they thought hurting her would help. All they’ve done is make us talk more. I made her come home with me yesterday, she stayed over. She’s cool.”

 

Dean smiled at that.

 

“So are you going to room share when you go to college with Samandriel?”

 

Jo grinned, her body language becoming looser.

 

“How do you know that?”

 

Dean threw caution to the wind completely.

 

“He told me, just before I left Cali after New Years.”

 

He could see Jo thinking, making the connections, and working out the cover story. She gasped and grinned, and Dean winked, just as Principal Angel walked into the room.

 

“Dean, what are you doing?” he sounded exasperated.

 

“Packing my stuff, talking to a student.” Dean looked away from Jo, and added a paperweight to the box.

 

“You’re not quitting, Dean. You have to talk to your union, you have to give notice, you-”

 

“I’m doing you a massive favor.”

 

“Dean’s Cas is a guy. He has a husband.” Lisa stuck in primly. Dean rolled his eyes, and grabbed his highlighters.

 

“I knew that Jimmy was a corruptible influence. You see, Dean? This is why I don’t want him back in my school.”

 

Dean could feel the anger rising again, could feel the urge to reveal the truth on the tip of his tongue. He was sick of the way Zachariah talked down on Castiel-or-Jimmy. He forced himself to hold it back.

 

“Well, I guess you don’t have to worry about that, do you? He’s got no real desire to come back here with someone who changes their mind at the last minute and expects him to just go with it. And when I’m out of here, you don’t have to concern yourself with me corrupting your students either, right?”

 

Zachariah’s face was turning the interesting red color that it took on back at the fundraiser, when Castiel had stood up to him in front of Dean.

 

“Oh my God!” Bela’s voice pierced through the tension as she hurried into the room, heading for Lisa while barely noticing Dean and Zachariah’s stand off, or Jo’s presence. “Jimmy Novak just showed up, in school!”

 

Dean avoided Zachariah’s pointed look, and instead paid attention to the other teacher’s gossip for once.

 

“You’re kidding? What is up with today?”

 

“I’m not kidding. Ugh, he can’t see my in my teacher outfit, you need to help me get prettier before I see him.”

 

Bela pulled out a compact mirror and started checking her hair and her make up, as Dean tried to think quickly. There was no question in his mind why Castiel was really there. He was obviously reacting to Dean’s call. But by showing up, he was laying everything bare; because why else would Jimmy Novak show up on the day that Dean was quitting? Did Castiel think he’d already let it all out?

 

“He’s got no desire to come back, hmm?” Zachariah smirked. Dean looked at Jo, who was shifting her feet as thought she was now uncomfortable to be in the room. And then he turned to Zachariah, matching his glare.

 

“He sure as hell didn’t come back for you.”

 

Zachariah was beginning to turn purple, but he had no chance to respond. There was an increase of noise in the hallway, as students began to swarm. And then Charlie walked in to the office, with Castiel just behind her. He stood in the doorway, looking at the scene in front of him, his attention drawn to the box in front of Dean. Dean’s mouth ran dry, and he could feel his heart thudding in his chest even before Castiel looked up at him. For once, he didn’t even care that he was being dragged into those blue pools. It felt this time like they were anchoring him, bringing him home.

 

_Dean had finally stopped wallowing in bed. He could tell that Castiel was relieved about this, but he knew that he was probably less responsive now. All his movements felt robotic; he was going through the motions of the day without any emotion. He knew he was the worst person for Castiel to try to interact with, but Castiel gave no hint that it was the case. He would talk gently, like he was afraid he was going to break Dean, but he wouldn’t push too hard. Most of the time, they sat in silence, Castiel slogging through another idea on his laptop and Dean watching trash TV for something to do._

_Somehow, through his funk, he had managed to get a job in the local school. Castiel didn’t question it, didn’t mention that instead of finding their own place over the summer as they had discussed, they had effectively moved in to Dean’s parents house. It had been left to both Dean and Sam, and Sam had graciously allowed them to have the house, saying that it worked out for him and Gabriel better anyway._

_He didn’t notice the funk lifting, though Castiel did. Of course Castiel did. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment where he started to feel something other than the numbness, but he knew the first moment that he laughed again. It had been in class, with the then crop of juniors. One of the class was giving an oral essay on The Great Gatsby, and there was something in the way they described Daisy that cracked Dean’s face, and made him chuckle. That night over dinner, he told Castiel what had happened in class, laughing again as he repeated the phrasing. Castiel had laughed too, and placed a hand over Dean’s, smiling warmly. Dean had known then that Castiel would never leave him, that he was so lucky to have his husband. He started asking more questions about Castiel’s work, as interest in his first book suddenly soared. It was a night about two weeks after the moment in Dean’s class that they had the conversation, laying in bed post-coitus._

_“I was talking with my agent,” Castiel had begun, running a hand slowly through Dean’s chest hair. “She wants to know, with the new marketing package, where we stand.”_

_“What do you mean?” Dean murmured, closing his eyes and enjoying the way Castiel was caressing his skin._

_“I mean, how do you feel about being pulled into the media circus? Apparently it can be quite intense, although it’s not as bad for authors as it is for actors. But the public will want to know about every facet of my life, so she wants to know what information is up for public consumption.”_

_Dean stroked a hand down Castiel’s naked back. If he was completely honest, he still felt numb most of the time. He kept having moments where the reality of the loss of his parents hit him full force, like a punch in the gut._

_“It’s too soon, isn’t it?” Castiel sounded sympathetic. “I suppose it helps that I use a pen name. If you don’t want to be linked to me, that gives us a good amount of separation.”_

_“I don’t want to be separate, Cas,” Dean’s voice was rough from misuse._

_“But you’re not ready for the public.” Castiel sounded so matter-of-fact. “I did tell my agent that. I hope you don’t mind, but I told her a lot of things. She came up with an idea that I think might work for us, if you agree to it?”_

_And then Castiel had sat up slightly, talking about acknowledging that he had a boyfriend but the relationship was private, so that no one would suspect he was married. How it would give him some interest in the female market, while still keeping him just out of reach. How, if it all went to plan, it would allow them their own little bubble, a life of secrecy away from the scrutiny of the public. Dean agreed to it all, disappointed that there would be girls dreaming of having a chance with Castiel, but relieved that there was a way his husband could be successful without having to deal with the media circus himself._

_“She thinks it’s a great idea you know,” Castiel snuggled back down, pulling Dean’s arms over his torso. “She said she knows I’ll do well and I’ll need the mental break that our privacy will afford me. I like the idea of keeping book-selling Cas separate from Dean’s Cas.”_

_“You’re going to do great, Cas. If your writing is anything like you, you’ll be so in demand.”_

_“I’ll always be yours, Dean. Whatever comes up, there’s no question. I’ll always want the man who came up and talked to me in some student bar my brother dragged me to. The man who was so gorgeous, I couldn’t believe he was real, that he wanted me.”_

_“I don’t want anyone else. I want my sweet, caring husband, the one who thinks everything through even if I don’t, the one who’s so patient and understanding, the way you’ve always been with my family drama. Don’t let that guy go when you get ridiculously famous.”_

_“I won’t. I can’t say anything for Jimmy Novak, but Castiel Winchester won’t. Besides, Castiel Winchester always replaced the milk if he was the last to use it.”_

_Dean managed a weak smile, and sent up a silent prayer that Castiel could be right._

 

“All out?” Castiel asked after a long moment of silence. Dean knew he meant that they were going to confess, rather than asking if he already had. His mouth was still too dry to answer, so he nodded instead, as Bela attached herself to Castiel, trying to force his head down in order to kiss him. Castiel resisted, his focus locked on Dean.

 

“What is going on, here?” Zachariah demanded, completely puce in the face now. Charlie stepped next to Jo and whispered in her ear earnestly, and Dean knew that she was catching Jo up, unaware he’d helped her to connect the dots mere moments before. He drew in a deep breath, and answered Zachariah’s question while dealing with Bela.

 

“Bela? Get away from my husband.”

 

Castiel grinned at him, as Bela looked around, her expression perplexed. Castiel stepped into the now crowded office, approaching what was Dean’s desk.

 

“I know I probably shouldn’t have come, but you didn’t sound like yourself on the phone. I got worried. Bobby dropped me off,” he gestured to the half-full box. “You mean it? You’re really doing it?”

 

“Yeah. You were right. You’ve always been right. Its time.”

 

“Am I missing something?” Zachariah thundered. Castiel finally broke his gaze from Dean, and looked lazily at the Principal, raising his hand for a handshake.

 

“Hi, Castiel Winchester. You probably know me as Jimmy Novak from my books and that time you tried to screw me over?”

 

Zachariah spluttered, looking between them as Castiel glared at him. Dean watched Castiel closely, only slightly worried about how his husband was going to act in this situation. Zachariah eventually rounded on Dean.

 

“He’s your husband?”

 

The way Zachariah spat the word he may as well have said axe murderer, or pus-filled cyst. Dean reached forward, and Castiel reached a hand backward at the same time, automatically knowing that Dean wanted his hand. Their fingers slotted together, and Castiel squeezed hard.

 

“Is that a problem?”

 

Zachariah turned back to Castiel.

 

“And I screwed you over? You embezzled money from the school!”

 

Castiel didn’t break.

 

“You have a record of how much Samandriel and I made for your fundraiser? How much was left once we abandoned the booth? You never sent a payment, either way. So maybe it’s a good thing that I told my brother to take our cut. I mean, we couldn’t trust you to get the arrangements right in the first place, could we? And we never signed a contract. You only got me because I’m in love with the man who asked me to stay.”

 

Zachariah looked back and forth between them again, and Castiel shrugged lazily.

 

“Guess you should have gotten it in writing.” He turned back to Dean, effectively shutting down the conversation. His voice became tender. “Are you nearly ready to go?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve just got a couple more things to pack.”

 

Dean started opening drawers, looking for anything that belonged to him that he wanted to take home, Castiel still clutching one of his hands as he did so.

 

“Wait,” Lisa spoke up. “Jimmy, you’re going out with Bela.”

 

“Who’s Bela?” Castiel asked Dean.

 

“The one who was trying to kiss you.”

 

“Isn’t she the one who always pisses you off?”

 

“Excuse me?” Bela cut into their conversation. Dean looked up as Castiel gazed lazily at her. He squeezed Castiel’s fingers. “Piss you off? Dean, we’re friends.”

 

Castiel turned back to him, waiting for confirmation of Bela’s words. Dean shrugged helplessly at him, still caring what everyone else thought, despite himself.

 

“She tried to kiss you and you still have to ask that?”

 

Castiel smiled tenderly, stepping closer to him, as Bela tried garner their attention again.

 

“Dean, we’re friends! How can you say we’re not?”

 

He glared at her.

 

“You wanna talk about how you’ve been lying about him for months? Acting like I’m the one talking total crap when I call you out on it? Like I don’t even know him?”

 

Castiel squeezed his fingers again, and Dean closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing hard and trying to calm down. He opened them again and focused on his husband, who had never looked away. He stood so close that Dean could see the delicate capillaries in the bags under Castiel’s eyes, he could see the slight cracks in his lips. And then he was looking in those glorious blue eyes, the ones that made him feel like he was at home, and before he was aware he had done it, he was leaning closer, tugging on Castiel’s arm, trying to remove the distance between them. Castiel’s lids lowered, and his gaze fell to Dean’s lips. He stayed where he was, and Dean knew he was relishing the tension building between them. He licked his lips in anticipation, and Castiel smirked, enjoying their silent conversation.

 

“You’re failing miserably at this secret boyfriend thing,” Castiel said quietly, his voice betraying a trace of laughter.

 

“Think we’re both way past that, now.” Dean inched closer, their mouths practically brushing against each other. “They even know your real name.”

 

“So freaking weird to call myself that after all this time. Remember when I used to forget and ignore people calling me Jimmy?”

 

Dean smiled this time, resting his forehead against Castiel, their noses bumping together. He could hear Zachariah’s exasperated tones, and Bela’s indignant ones, but it was mere background noise. His focus was on the man he should have been concentrating on for the five years he had been grieving heavily.

 

“Yeah, I remember. But it was the right decision at the time.”

 

“And now?” Castiel skimmed a hand onto his hipbone, ignoring all the other activity in the room as well.

 

“And now I’m deciding to prioritize the most amazing person in my life.”

 

“Who’s that?” Castiel flirted. Dean knew what he was getting at.

 

“Castiel Winchester.”

 

Castiel whined softly, and kissed him finally, pressing their lips firmly together, squeezing his fingers again and rubbing his hip bone. Dean’s lips moved with his, although he was trying to keep their kiss chaste. He wanted more, of course he did, but he was aware of Charlie and Jo in the room, and the other kids in the hallway outside. They still had to keep it PG-13, even if Dean was dying to throw Castiel onto his desk. At least Castiel seemed to understand why Dean was still holding back, and he didn’t press for anything more than the feel of Dean’s lips against his. Before Dean could peel away fully, Castiel gave him a few quick pecks on the mouth, not willing to let him go so easily.

 

And then they both heard it. Out in the corridor, one of the guys coughed the word ‘queer’. Dean took himself slowly out of Castiel’s grasp, and walked to the doorway, still ignoring Zachariah’s increasingly exasperated huffs of frustration and the whispering between Lisa and Bela. He approached Benny, squaring up to him and stopping a short distance in front of him. Benny was forcing a smile, as though he was trying for bravado but was also genuinely worried about how Dean was going to react. Dean wasn’t as angry as he supposed he would be at the slur, and it took him a moment to realize that, even after everything that had happened with Charlie, he was still disappointed that the kid he’d worked to try to help would turn on him in that way.

 

“Is queer meant to be an insult or something? I know what I am.”

 

Benny looked around for his friends, but Gordon and Fergus had melted into the rest of the crowd.

 

“You know Benny, I feel sorry for you. Because one way or another, you’re always going to struggle. Whether it’s classwork, or for your asshole boss, or for that moment at college where some guy hits on you and you want to say yes, but you’ve been so damn homophobic that you’re going to give a pass to the one real shot you have of being happy.” He shrugged, and placed his hands into his pockets, aware that a lot of his words could also apply to his relationship with Castiel. “If being gay is the worst thing you can think of to be, then fine. But being a lonely bigot sounds worse to me.” He half-turned back to the office. “Cas? You wanna go now?”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah. Don’t worry about that crap.”

 

Castiel joined him in the crowded hallway clutching the box anyway. They pushed through the crowds of whispering students without another word. Dean ignored them all, his focus solely on the dark-haired man in front of him, who was walking with the same confidence he’d shown at their wedding, and throughout their marriage. They didn’t talk again until they were through the crowd, and walking across the teacher’s lot to the Impala.

 

“Dean? What happens next?”

 

“I thought we’d already agreed. We’re moving to our new apartment, aren’t we?”

 

Castiel looked at him from the corner of his eye, and then bumped hips.

 

“Okay, so we’re moving in to our apartment. Are you looking for a new teaching job?”

 

“I think I just killed every chance of getting a good reference.”

 

Castiel set the box on the trunk lid of the Impala, and regarded him carefully.

 

“Dean, are you sure about this?”

 

“It’s too late to go back now, isn’t it? Those kids all have cell phones that go straight to YouTube. Chances are, we’re already uploaded, making out. People know. And I don’t care anymore. I care more about the fact that I never see you, that I barely sleep when you’re gone, that you hate it here. I care more that I can feel this tension between us, this distance. I don’t want that, and you don’t want that.”

 

Castiel carried on watching him, his expression blank but his attention never wandering from Dean as he talked.

 

“You remember when we first got together? The whole time, throughout college, we went maybe two hours without each other, every day. One time, I went to pick up a coffee and the guy called me ‘DeanandCas’ like that was our name. I want that back, Cas. I need to stop wallowing in my own misery and put you first, because I don’t want to lose you.”

 

“Dean, you’ll never lose me. I used to get ‘DeanandCas’ on my coffee cups too,” Castiel smiled sadly. “I just don’t want you to move to New York with me and then resent it because you’re doing nothing, just stuck in the apartment while I’m writing.”

 

“I never used to feel like that in college when you were writing.”

 

Castiel ran a finger along the edge of the box containing Dean’s possessions.

 

“I would love it if we saw each other constantly again. I’ve missed you.”

 

It wasn’t an “I miss you” like they might say on the phone at night, or when they reunited. It was the acknowledgement that Dean hadn’t been himself in the years that his parents had been gone, that they had deviated from where they were meant to be. It was Castiel saying that Dean had been gone for a long time. But then, he had always been aware of Dean’s struggles, and even though he’d been frustrated in the last few months, he put Dean’s needs first without much hesitation.

 

“I’ve missed being your Dean too.”

 

“You’ve always been my Dean. Just, my Dean with a lot of heartache.”

 

Dean felt an ache in his chest just at Castiel’s words, this time for how much he could love the man in front of him, how patient Castiel was with him.

 

“You know, I have an idea,” Castiel took the keys for the Impala and popped the trunk, loading the box full of Dean’s possessions in amongst all the junk that Dean never cleared out of the back. He closed the lid and cocked his head at Dean in his typical fashion, and Dean felt his heart melt. “Samandriel wants to stay with Sam and Gabe for a while. He’ll probably be there until he goes to college, so effectively, I have no PA. We could be together all the time if you did it, and I could show you some awesome places, and I wouldn’t feel so damn cynical all the time if you were there. You don’t have to decide now but if you did? It would be pretty close to perfect.”

 

Dean stepped closer, wedging himself between Castiel’s legs, smoothing his hands around the sides of Castiel’s neck. He held him gently in his hands, thumbs stroking down his cheeks, and Castiel couldn’t fight the smile from Dean’s attention.

 

“Why didn’t we think of that before?” He brought his face closer, feeling Castiel’s breath on his mouth. “So long as Samandriel is okay with it, I am too.”

 

He didn’t give Castiel the chance to smile before pressing closer, kissing him again. This time, there was no concern over an audience, no worries about anything as their lips moved together, Castiel’s fingers caressing every inch of his torso while his thumbs continued to stroke over stubble as their tongues met, sliding against each other in a way that was familiar and comforting. Dean knew that they were making the right decision. Castiel pulled away way before he was ready.

 

“Let’s go home.”

 

“Okay. But we should pack up my parents house first.”

 

Castiel gave him a weak smile, and another small peck on the lips.

 

“Whatever you need.”

 

“I need you,” Dean smiled, and kissed him one more time before stepping back, taking the keys off Castiel and heading for the front seat. He waited for Castiel to get into the car as well, looking over at his husband and feeling ten pounds lighter already. Castiel reached into the glove box and grabbed his sunglasses, sliding them on and smiling at Dean.

 

“Let’s go.”


	17. Epilogue

There was soft jazz playing on the music system. It filled the kitchen, reception area, sitting room and den with a warm atmosphere that Dean hadn’t noticed had been missing from the house in Kansas. He was setting the TiVo to record, and could hear the discussion in the kitchen, as Jo and Charlie teased Garth for his poor popcorn making skills, and Castiel asked Samandriel if he really needed his body weight in Cheetos.

 

“Guys, its almost on!” He called out, stepping back and selecting the best seat on the sofa for watching. Castiel was in the room before any of the teenagers, taking a short run and jumping at Dean, knocking him sideways on the seat. Dean laughed, and sought his mouth for a kiss as Samandriel and his friends walked in.

 

“Gross!”

 

“Mr Winchester! Put the famous author down!”

 

“So, we’re going out after this interview, right? Because I do _not_ want to be here when they start celebrating.”

 

Castiel sat up, pulling Dean with him, and they settled together on the sofa. Samandriel sat beside them, and Charlie jumped into an armchair, with Jo draping herself across the seat, blocking Charlie in. Garth fell onto the floor by Samandriel’s foot, and grabbed hold of the bowl of popcorn.

 

“Do you remember thinking that Samandriel was moving out to go to college?” Castiel said over the credits for the show.

 

“You’d miss me too much if I did,” Samandriel spoke around a mouthful of cheese-flavored chips. “Besides, this works out great. I like this apartment.”

 

Dean looked around the den, which he had to admit was his favorite room outside of his bedroom. The bookshelves were cluttered with knick-knacks and picture frames, the photos showing the better moments of Castiel and Dean’s life together. Most of their books were confined to Castiel’s study, which he had taken to calling the Library, although the occasional paperback strayed into other rooms as someone in the house read them. Samandriel had decided there would be twin beds in his room, which Garth had moved in to, and the girls had taken over one of the guest rooms. There was another room for Gabriel and Sam when they decided to visit, though Dean would have been surprised if his brother and brother-in-law chose to live with four students.

 

Samandriel was correct, in Dean’s eyes anyway. He liked the place busy and full of life, and Samandriel’s friends made that happen. Samandriel seemed happier, surrounded by his peers. It was what he had left his parents and other siblings for, after all. The apartment, while far more extravagant than the Winchester’s house in Kansas, felt like home for all of them.

 

“Shhhh, it’s on,” Jo waved her hand behind her head as though it would shut Samandriel up, and then she wound her arms around Charlie’s neck. The Dick Roman theme tune started up, and all you could hear was the crunch of chips and popcorn being eaten, and the soft jazz from earlier, barely competing with the volume of the television.

 

_“Welcome to the Dick Roman show! Tonight’s show is pretty special,” Dick winked at the camera, and the shot panned to Castiel and Dean, who were sitting side by side, Castiel watching Dick steadily and Dean looking down at his knees. The camera flicked back to Dick. “That’s right ladies and gentlemen, we got the secret boyfriend on the show!”_

Dean watched as Dick crossed to his seat, remembering how nauseated he had felt in the studio, even with Castiel holding his hand firmly. The entire experience had been overwhelming. They had put make up on them, left them in a pokey little room for a few hours, and then made them sit down after the audience had filed in, staying in those tub chairs for at least half an hour before filming began.

 

_“So, Jimmy - do I still call you Jimmy?”_

_Castiel smiled, giving Dean a quick glance before answering._

_“Jimmy’s just fine.”_

_“So, Jimmy, let me get this right. This is your boyfriend?”_

_Dean looked up, catching Castiel’s glance this time._

_“Actually, this is Dean. We’ve been married for the last seven years.”_

_“Wow. And Dean, you haven’t wanted to kill him yet?”_

_The audience laughed, and Dean attempted a smile._

_“No. If anything, I’m sure he’s wanted to kill me for a lot of that time.”_

Castiel patted Dean’s leg, leaving his hand on the inside of Dean’s thigh as the interview continued. Dean could barely concentrate on the television while he was focused on Castiel’s hand. Which was probably his devious husband’s intention. He rested his head against Castiel’s shoulder, only half listening as Dick commented on how they were such a good-looking couple, and asking them to relive the moment in the school when everything came out. Castiel on the screen briefly glazed over what had happened, and Dean refocused on the screen, though it took a tremendous amount of effort.

 

_“So what happens now? Dean, are you working in another school?”_

_“No. Cas- Jimmy and I talked about it, and we just want to spend as much time together as possible now.”_

_“And besides, Samandriel is going to college now, so I was down a PA. Until I told Dean he was going to fill in.”_

_“Easiest job interview of my life,” Dean joked. “I just had to sleep with my boss.”_

Samandriel and his friends groaned, and Castiel laughed at their reactions. Dean nibbled on Castiel’s earlobe, trying to get his attention before whispering.

 

“We’re TiVoing this. We know what happens.”

 

Castiel looked around at him and grinned, then cocked his head towards their bedroom. Dean didn’t hesitate, even as the catcalls from Jo, Charlie and Garth followed them out of the room.

 

“So, I guess you want a second job interview?” Castiel smirked as they made their way to the bedroom.

 

“Something like that. You should maybe put something in my contract, must interview for the job at least once a week.”

 

“Once a night.”

 

“Mmm, if you insist.”

 

Castiel pushed him against the wall, and Dean grinned in a way that he hadn’t for years.

 

“I think maybe we should definitely be in our bedroom. Jo might seem like she’s just full of sass, but she’s tough. She might actually kick our asses.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes, but accepted the advice, pulling Dean along to their bedroom and pushing him in through the door, before striding in and locking the door behind him.


End file.
